


You're Makin' Me Feel The Monsters Are Real

by wirewrappedlily



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek can shift into an actual wolf, Kid Fic, M/M, Peter Hale could be my favourite character if he wasn't a psychopants, angst could almost be considered an extra character, don't ask just read it, he is just that sassy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-26
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-19 14:22:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/574192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wirewrappedlily/pseuds/wirewrappedlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles was four years old, he kind of accidentally ran off into the woods near the playground. It was a good thing, too, or he never would have found the tiny ball of fur with a broken leg whimpering in the long grass. The wolf pup was storm-cloud grey with bright blue eyes, and Stiles couldn't do anything but kneel in the grass next to him, reaching a careful hand out to soothe over the little guy's heaving back, tears running down its muzzle. "'S okay now. I'm here. I'll take care of you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. (Laying in Hospital Beds) Joy and Misery

When Stiles was four years old, he kind of accidentally ran off into the woods near the playground. It was a good thing, too, or he never would have found the tiny ball of fur with a broken leg whimpering in the long grass. The wolf pup was storm-cloud grey with bright blue eyes, and Stiles couldn't do anything but kneel in the grass next to him, reaching a careful hand out to soothe over the little guy's heaving back, tears running down its muzzle. "'S okay now. I'm here. I'll take care of you."

Stiles couldn't lift the wolf pup without hurting his broken leg, and he really didn't want to leave him alone. Sitting down in the grass beside the pup, Stiles started telling him a story, talking as loudly as possible so that the grown-ups would hear him. The wolf looked at him strangely, so Stiles paused his story to explain it to him, and completely forgot what story he'd started with. Stiles pouted, telling his new friend this, and he could've sworn it made the cub laugh, a series of small wuffs of air as he laid his head down in his little paws, whimpering a little bit less the more Stiles talked. Finally, Stiles could hear his mom calling for him, sprinting over the little hill that separated the playground from where Stiles had found the pup on the edge of the woods, worry fading off of her features. Stiles told her in a jumbled rush all about his new four-legged friend, demanding they take care of him, and she agreed immediately. 

In the car, Stiles leaned almost far enough to tip his car seat over in order to pet over the wolf's head and ears, telling him everything would be okay, that the bumps hurt, but they'd get to the animal clinic and they'd make his leg better. The wolf uncurled as much as it could, pushing across the seat a little so it would be easier for Stiles to reach him, and Stiles's mother melted as she peeked in the rear view. The wolf directed Stiles's hand where it wanted him to scratch or pet, keeping its eyes on Stiles as he babbled about their Aunt Jet and Aunt Frankie up in British Columbia. Not for the first time, Stiles's mother wondered if it'd help her little boy to have someone to talk to like he needed to. "Stiles, tell him the story of the princess and the alligator with the achy tooth." 

Stiles's eyes widened with the promise of tell his favourite new story, and the wolf looked from her back to him as if he understood the words. The vet's was closed for the weekend, but there was a good chance they could get some measure of help from Deputy Deaton when they got home, Stiles assuring the little guy the whole time that Deaton was nice; he was Stiles's father's partner on the police force, and he was really good with animals. Pulling into their driveway to a cruiser two hours before it was supposed to be there made Stiles's mother laugh, teasing his father about how worried he was his little boy had a new friend. Deaton looked like thunder, though. He hid it when he realized Stiles was looking at him, but for that moment, Stiles could see. "Do you know, I think I know who's been caring for this little guy. I can drop him off home after I wrap up his leg." 

All at once, Stiles wanted nothing more than to hug his little friend and not let go. Turning huge eyes on his dad, Stiles reached for the little grey ball of fur as Deaton reached over him and scooped him up, hushing him as the wolf twisted to look back at Stiles over Deaton's shoulder. "He'll be fine, buddy. He's going back home to...to the Hales?" Deaton nodded confirmation, "That's a little odd." 

"They've friends further north that help raise wolves who've been orphaned, the Hales are just caring for him until he can go home." Stiles flailed towards the pup as he let out a low sound of pain, tears in his big, amber eyes. "It's okay, Stiles, he'll be fine." 

"You're hurting him!" Stiles was scooped up and taken away, reaching for his little friend even while his father explained that Deaton just had to reset the bone before he could wrap it in place, the wolf's bright blue eyes following him away until he couldn't see those bright, hurt eyes over Deaton's shoulder any longer. Derek Hale didn't want to go back home. He'd much rather figure out why he already cared about Stiles and that those brown eyes be smiling. 

 

.....

 

Stiles saw Peter Hale while he and his mom were getting groceries three days later, and he'd climbed out of the shopping cart seat and down to the floor before she could even notice, running up to the older man because there was a limited timeline until she did. "D'you still have the wolf? Is he okay? Is his leg healing? How did he break it? Why--"

Peter crouched down, a small smile on his face, his eyes laughing, "You are a very smart young man, aren't you? Now, you were the brave young soul that found our little wolf, weren't you? He ran off before my niece, Laura, could keep up with him. I think I probably owe you at least a cookie for finding him and bringing him back to us. It's really dangerous out there for little guys."

"Is he _okay_?!" 

"He absolutely is. His leg's healing really well." Peter told him kindly before he could get worked up again. Peter glanced up over his shoulder, and Stiles knew his mom had caught up to him. She was going to start apologizing and she'd feel embarrassed, which would make Stiles feel horrible, but he'd really needed to know.

"Why don't you come to our house and see him?" A new voice asked from behind Peter. 

An older boy stood there, his jaw sharp and defiantly lifted as Peter turned to shoot him a questioning look. His black hair fell in his face messily and his eyes were so many different colours Stiles would take hours trying to figure it out if it wasn't embarrassing. Slowly, Stiles pulled himself away from looking at the boy, looking up behind him to his mom, "Please? Please, can I?!" 

"W-Well--"

Peter stood from his crouch, drawing the boy around and a little in front of him, sharing a look that spoke volumes somehow, "It's no trouble at all, Mrs. Stilinski, I completely understand why he wants to make sure the little guy is safe." 

The grown-ups began exchanging possibilities and small talk, but Stiles was staring at the boy again, smiling as he smirked up at the two adults, looking back down at Stiles after a moment. "I'm Derek." 

"Stiles..." Stiles whispered quietly. His real name was something that not even his day care teacher could pronounce, so he felt better when people didn't try. Derek laughed just a little, nodding and sticking out his hand for Stiles to shake. Stiles shook like his dad had taught him to, smiling even wider. Derek looked up at the grown-ups just before they cemented the plans, looking back down at Stiles with strange, kaleidoscope eyes. 

"I'll see you soon." Derek murmured, backing up a few steps before turning properly to walk along with Peter, Sitles's mother scooping him back up into the cart and leaning on her elbows against it to look more closely at him. 

"That was not a good thing you did." 

"'M in trouble?" Stiles wrinkled his nose, screwing up his mouth at the thought. He hated being in trouble, which was shocking considering how often he did things he knew would get him into it. 

"No. But only because it's good that you're worried about your little friend. Doesn't win you points towards getting a puppy, but it's a good sign that you really are a good boy and not a little terror that the Aunts cooked up in their cauldron." 

Stiles snorted indignantly, "The Aunts wouldn't cook me! I'm not meaty enough! They said so!" Stiles's mother grinned slowly, shaking her hair to tickle the long, dark brown curls over his legs, leaning forwards to plant a sloppy-wet kiss on his cheek just to gross him out. "Ew, mom!" 

"I love you, little boy." 

Stiles wrinkled his nose at her, crossing his arms over his little chest, "I love you, too." He grumbled finally.

She laughed at him, and he felt much happier than he had in days, a new friend made and an invitation to check on his wolf in the works and his mom happy. He felt really, really good.

 

.....

 

Derek wasn't there when Stiles first arrived at the Hale house, Peter waving him inside and into a small room that had toys scattered around, a young girl with the same jet-black hair Derek had leaning down on all fours, almost nose-to-nose with the ball of fur he'd found near the woods. 

Stiles lit up like a Christmas tree, really too distracted for introductions, but Laura Hale didn't seem to mind as Stiles rushed over and dropped to his knees beside the storm-grey wolf, reaching slowly to pet it, like his dad had taught him to do when he was trying to pet a dog he didn't know. The wolf bumped his snout into the palm of Stiles's hand, a small wolfy smile appearing as Stiles eagerly started rubbing and petting, pulling him closer as he rolled onto his back and showed Stiles his belly, tongue lolling from between his jaws. Laura was laughing at them for no reason, but Stiles was too excited to see that his four-legged friend was okay to really worry about it. Stiles got down beside the little fluff ball, rubbing his tummy while he started exclaiming over how happy he was to see that he was okay. 

"You know, this is the happiest I've seen him since Deaton brought him back. You've made a good friend." Laura laughed, looking up and running to her uncle when Peter appeared in the doorway. 

Stiles knew his cheeks and ears were turning red like his dad's did when his mom said something sweet to him, but he couldn't help how much he wanted to hug the little guy. Stiles looked over at Peter and Laura, his brow furrowing and a frown appearing, "Where's Derek? I wanted to thank him for thinking of it and thank you for letting me come and--"

The wolf bumped his head into Stiles's stomach, laying it down against his thigh and looking up at him expectantly. Stiles started petting again, smiling down at him. "Derek's busy right now, but he'll be here in a little while. You should come and have those cookies I owe you with Laura, he always appears when there are cookies involved." 

Stiles didn't want to leave the wolf, and his pout coincided with a small whine from the little guy, fuzzy ears tipped forwards and blue eyes staring at Peter. "Can...can I play with him a little while longer?" 

"Absolutely, Master Stiles, the cookies might not even be done yet, I should go check!" Peter grinned widely, disappearing down the hall while Laura came back to sit near them, pulling out a book. 

"Do you want me to read to you?" Laura asked shyly. 

"I can read, but I'd like it if you did." Laura beamed at him, opening the book up and taking a deep breath. Stiles laid down around the wolf again, holding him like a teddy bear, and by the time the wolf slipped out from under his arm to go drag a blanket over to them, Stiles was too close to sleep to notice, or to see Laura holding the blanket up at the wolf's whined and yipped insistence, letting him slip back into Stiles's arms and close his eyes. 

Peter admonished Laura for laughing at her brother when she came to get him, but he did take a picture of the wolf and the boy sleeping nose to nose on the playroom floor, Stiles's chubby little fist on Derek's flank and his cheeks flushed hot laying under the blanket with a werewolf, even though Derek was fully shifted. In his sleep, Derek's tongue flicked out over his teeth, glancing over the end of Stiles's nose and making it wrinkle slightly. Stiles snuggled closer, and Derek nuzzled in. 

When Stiles woke up from his nap, Peter coaxed him with a sandwich and those cookies, Derek appearing a few minutes later looking flushed and kind of sleepy as he smiled at Stiles, climbing into the chair next to him. "Hi!" Stiles was wriggling in his seat with how happy he was, and Derek just seemed to smile wider. 

"Hey. Have you been having fun?" Stiles nodded vigorously. "When we're done lunch, do you want to play together?" 

"Our little buddy needs some rest, so I don't think you'll see him again today, Stiles." Peter told him apologetically. 

"C-Can I come again another time, please?" Stiles said in almost one straight go, looking immediately mad at himself because his dad always told him to slow down for other people. 

"Yes, you most certainly can." Peter answered with a smile at Derek. Stiles beamed at the Hale twins, bopping up and down on his chair a little bit. "I think Laura and Derek like you, too, so you could hang out with them." 

Stiles looked between the two older kids, his eyes wide, "Really?...You...You don't think I'm annoying or a baby?" 

"No!" Derek answered at once, affronted. Laura nodded her head in agreement, "You're smart! You--"

"You told me you could read, right?! That's smart! And you're funny." Laura interrupted. Derek shot a look at his sister, ducking his head in thanks for her save of what could've been him giving too much away. 

"But you're--"

"We're only eight." Laura scoffed, "We're not _old_." 

"Are you implying I am old, young lady?" Peter asked primly, hands on his hips and eyebrow cocked. 

Laura giggled, Derek snorting, "Only in body, Uncle Peter, never at heart." Peter's features opened up, his jaw dropping and eyes widening funnily as he came towards the table making a disbelieving noise. 

Derek and Laura squeaked, sliding out of their seats, Derek grabbing Stiles's hand and pulling him along as they ran away, giggling madly. Peter caught Laura in his arms, tickling her until she was screaming. Derek put Stiles behind his back protectively when Peter came prowling towards them, standing tall in the face of the coming torture, "Stiles, RUN!" Derek yelled as Peter grabbed him up. Stiles didn't run, though; he charged in and helped Derek wriggle out, using himself as bait for Peter and nearly crying he was laughing so hard. 

When Peter had exhausted the tickles, Stiles fell into Derek's side, the Hale twins collapsed together still snickering slightly, "That was silly! I totally had him, you could've escaped!" 

"I didn't wanna. I'd have to leave you behind if I did, and I don't leave anyone behind." Stiles told him matter-of-factly, his father's words about the subject ringing in his head. 

"Cookies, little monsters?" Peter called. 

"Cookies!" Derek lifted Stiles to his feet before they ran for the kitchen and promised sugar. Stiles hadn't been that happy really ever.

 

.....

 

Peter had ribbed Derek a very, very miniscule amount after Stiles had left, and Laura hadn't said anything about it at all, so Derek knew that he was in trouble in some way if they were working so hard to be nice to him. 

"Derek, Stiles is going to be very special to you." Peter told him eventually, the two of them sitting with a movie paused on the TV. "I want you to be careful with him because he's like Anna and Izzy, he's only human and more breakable than you are, but when you feel like you can tell him, I'll support you." 

Derek was quiet for a long time, in the way Peter could read meant that he would, eventually, say what was on his mind, rather than the silence of a quiet little boy with a rowdy, messy horde of cousins and siblings tearing their house apart almost constantly. Peter once again congratulated himself that he'd managed to sort everything out that they had the house mostly empty for this playdate. Laura loved her twin so much she'd die for him, but convincing the others to lay off teasing Derek about the little human he'd decided to connect with would be tricky. "Uncle Peter, I feel weird around Stiles. Like I should keep him safe. It's different than with baby Everett or anyone else." 

"Don't worry about it, Derek. It's natural, and you don't have to think about it for a long, long time. Just be his friend, and let him be yours." 

"Have you ever felt like that?" 

"Yes, I have. Like I said, it's natural." Peter shrugged it off, his mind on the wedding ring on his finger and the woman his heart belonged to, because he knew already that his nephew had found someone who'd be able to love both the human and the wolf in him like no one else could. "Keep him close, Derek. He'll be a good friend. He's fearless." 

"You don't think it'll scare him...?" Derek looked down at his lap, his brows pulled together at the prospect. 

"You're not the monster under his bed, Derek, and if you show him and you trust him, he will never ever treat you like you are." 

"I don't...I don't want to scare him." 

"Then don't jump out and yell 'boo'. When you feel like it's right to, I think you can be honest with him, okay?" Derek nodded slowly, licking his lips and settling back in to watch the movie. "But for now? We're not going to mention that you were shifted with him here, or that there's anything strange about him being over. If the others try to give you a hard time, send them to me." 

"I'll send them to you; Derek'll just try to make their heads burst into flames with the power of his glare." Laura chirped, hopping up on Peter's other side. 

Peter chuckled, ruffling Dereks' hair with one hand, "We have many incredible talents; that is not one of them." 

 

.....

 

Stiles was hiding in the top of the slide when Derek scented him out, wrath growing in the pit of his stomach at the smell of tears and blood mixing with Stiles's scent. Derek cast a look over to the three kids between his age and Stiles's, pudgy and loudmouthed bullies, before letting his body take him right to Stiles's side. 

"Stiles?" The boy flinched hard, shaking with silent tears as he tried to turn away without losing his balance and simply sliding down the slide. "Stiles, can I see?" Derek asked, trying to use the same words and tone his own mother had used whenever one of them had gotten hurt, wolf or not. Derek reached out gently, helping Stiles keep balance and moving him so that he could get a good look. Derek kneeled on the hot plastic of the jungle gym, looking up at Stiles's eyes before looking at where he'd scraped his jaw, dirt in the wound. Derek didn't lick the wound, but it was a close thing, his jaw tightening as he looked at Stiles's tear-streaked face. "What happened?" 

There were more scrapes, on Stiles's palms and on his knees and one ankle; the older boys had pushed him into the bench and he'd fallen to the ground. Derek caught sight of blood on Stiles's teeth and got him to open wide and say 'ah' so that he could see what was bleeding. Stiles had bitten the inside of his lip hard enough that it was probably a miracle his teeth hadn't gone all the way through, and Derek had to stamp down the urge to shift and attack, let alone growl. Oh-so-carefully, Derek brought Stiles to him and hugged him, murmuring that everything would be alright. By the time they'd walked over to where Uncle Peter was anxiously waiting, having heard and smelled everything himself, Derek was downright twitching he wanted so badly to go over there and hit those guys. Stiles didn't want to let go of his hand,   
though, only reluctantly releasing it so that Peter could clean the scrape on his palm and put on a band-aid with the kit he'd grabbed out of his car the moment they'd smelled blood in conjunction with Stiles. 

"I think this calls for ice cream." Peter sighed heavily, putting on a show like it was a hardship to even think of having ice cream. Derek knew it was partially to make Stiles giggle if they could, and also partially to get him away from the thoughts chasing each other around about what he wanted to do to the bullies. "Where's your mom, Stiles?" 

"Sh-She had to go lay down."

"Did you come here by yourself?" Derek asked carefully, an instinct in his gut he didn't like.

"She dropped me off." Stiles murmured, voice still high with tears. Derek wanted to give in and be angry; Peter didn't let Stiles see anything in his face, but Derek could see it all the same. 

"Stiles, we'll take you for ice cream, then I think we should see your dad." Peter muttered. 

Derek didn't see Stiles again, anywhere, for almost a full three weeks after Peter had talked to Deputy Stilinski. Peter got a call, and Derek's mother and father had sat down with him one night, and by the next afternoon, Stiles had been dropped off at the Hale house, Laura and Derek both hugging the little boy close, circling protectively around him. Stiles fell asleep mid-afternoon with Derek's head on his stomach and his own in Laura's lap. Derek shifted after the nap and played with him until his dad came to get him while Stiles thought Derek was at his violin lessons. When Derek shifted back once he was gone, Laura and he curled up with their Aunt Rebecca and let her calm them down from wanting to go   
after Stiles, to make sure he was okay. Peter bought another cookbook, and told them that they'd get ingredients for the next time Stiles came, that they'd make something special for him. Derek had dreams that night of catching a rabbit and bringing it home for a man with amber eyes and the same constellations of dots Stiles had under his left ear and across his cheeks. Derek ached to go home, even though that's exactly where he was. 

Peter won an argument the next afternoon and took Derek out of the house for a while, walking through the woods until they were well out of earshot of any of the others, sitting down and heaving a sigh. 

"Derek, Stiles's mother is very sick. She loves him very, very much, but sometimes the thing that makes her sick makes her forget or get confused."

"What is it, Uncle Peter?" 

"It's...it's brain cancer, Derek. She has brain cancer, and because you're such a good friend, and we got worried about Stiles, they've caught it, they know it's there now, and they can fight it." 

"Why did she leave him alone like that if it's brain cancer?" 

Peter drew an arm around Derek's shoulders, "The part of her brain the tumor is in is being put under pressure, and that makes her do and think things she wouldn't normally. I'm telling you all this because it's going to be hard for Stiles. Really, really hard. You're going to want to protect him, and it's going to make you angry that you can't. Deputy Stilinski's asked us if we'd be alright to take him when they have to go to the doctor's--"

"Can he come here everyday instead?" Peter chuckled, knocking them closer while he rumpled Derek's hair. 

"That's what I asked, too. Deputy Stilinski doesn't see a problem with it, but with the others--"

"I don't care if they tease me. I don't care! He needs to have a friend." 

Peter smiled at him, nodding, "Well, we can give him one of those. We can also give him a family." 

They went back inside, ignoring the looks from Derek's older cousins and not commenting on the kiss Derek's mom planted on his forehead when she hugged him tight. It didn't matter to him; Stiles did.

When Deputy Stilinski brought Stiles the next day, Derek introduced himself and thanked him for letting Stiles come. The deputy gave him a watery smile, kneeling down to look him in the eye, "Thank _you_ for caring about my son, Derek. You are a very, very good friend to him. I feel better knowing that he's with someone he cares about, who cares about him." 

"I do, sir. I wish that there was more I could do." The deputy nodded, looking down for a moment. 

"You're making him happy, and that's more than I could ask." They shook hands again, Derek giving in to the sounds of Laura tickling Stiles and running to catch up with them once they'd made their goodbyes, Stiles yelling goodbye and that he loved his dad before the door closed. He couldn't hear his father's quiet reply, but Derek and Laura could, and it made something in Derek relax a little that Stiles was safe, and happy, and there. Stiles pulled Derek into the pile with Laura and him, the three of them holding onto each other like lifelines while they rolled across the playroom floor. It felt strange to be so happy, but it was his job to make sure Stiles was now.

"You two are my best friends. I love you guys." Stiles told them, crushed in the middle, when they managed to curtail the giggling. Laura and Derek both hugged him tighter between them. 

"We love you, too." They said in unison, something they'd made conscious effort for many years to stop doing. Derek caught Laura's eye, and they both got mischievous, each blowing a raspberry against Stiles's cheeks, making him squawk and flail between them. Laughing like the little monsters they were, Derek and Laura ran for it before Stiles could do anything to retaliate, Stiles screeching his laughter after them. 

It was unclear in hindsight why Derek asked Laura to shift into the wolf instead of him a week later, but he did, leading Stiles by the hand into the playroom they'd first been in with him as the wolf. 

What was in no way unclear was that Stiles would be the undoing of them all. "That's not my wolf. Where's my wolf?! What happened?! This isn't--" 

Derek held up his hands desperately to stop the sudden, panicky breathing Stiles had fallen into, but it didn't stop. So he gave Stiles the wolf he wanted. By shifting. Right in front of Stiles's eyes. Derek grunted as Stiles crashed into his side, hot tears managing to slide through Derek's fur to skin as Stiles clung on to him in relief. "Stiles?" Laura asked quietly. "That wolf was Derek a moment ago."

"And you were the other one? Sorry, but you weren't him and Derek said I was going to see him, so when you weren't him, I--" Derek butted his head against Stiles's chest to stop the hiccoughing way Stiles was getting worked up again. 

"You're not...scared?" 

Stiles's expression was one of such intense and abiding disbelief that Peter would have killed himself laughing. Stiles's arms wrapped around Derek tighter, as if Laura might try to take him away. "NO! I'm not a baby! I love you and Derek, 'm not scared!" Laura stumbled forwards, throwing her arms around him and hugging tight. Derek had ripped his clothes shifting, so he'd have to get new ones to shift back, but he could knock his twin and their best friend over and lick Stiles's face thoroughly until he was hoarse laughing and screaming. Derek rumbled happily when he was done, planting himself on Stiles like the boy was a royal pillow and making a show of being blaise about Stiles trying to wriggle out from   
under him. "Derek, you are heavy." Stiles told him with a pout, poking his flank. Derek did the wolf equivalent of a smirk down at him, and Stiles giggled, his little nose wrinkling. "I like that your leg's healed, though." 

"It was annoying trying to get that cast on him, he kept squirming everytime he thought he heard you coming." Laura huffed, sticking her tongue out at the low warning sound Derek made. 

Stiles giggled, absently running his hands over Derek's fur like it was the most natural thing in the world to have his best friend turn into a wolf and sit on him. "Kidlets!--" Peter cut off in the doorway, cracking up silently as Stiles twisted his head trying to look at him. "Well, I'm going to assume from the things that were once pants on the wolf that we've decided to come clean?" Derek nodded his head, "Go get changed, Derek. Stiles and Laura, we have a super-secret special recipe to try. There could even be taste explosions. Come, let us bake!" 

It was the easiest thing in the entire world, because Stiles was absolutely not afraid of wolves; big, bad, or otherwise. 

 

.....

 

Stiles had a bad fever and he felt like death when the Hales invaded his house. Derek and Laura knocked the door open, crawling into bed around him even though he was sick, Derek pulling him around so he could be the little spoon and Derek could press his forehead into Stiles's neck; Laura plucking at them both until they were curled up on top of her, her fingers running through Stiles's hair soothingly, pressing a cool compress against his head when Peter came upstairs with one, quietly asking what kind of soup Stiles wanted him to make. Stiles's mother's immune system was weakened, it wasn't the best idea for her to be the one to take care of him, and Stiles knew she'd been crying because of that; that   
he'd made his mom cry.

Laura pressed her palm against his aching forehead, and Stiles felt the pressure ease. "You haven't done anything wrong, Stiles, and your mom just wants you to get better." 

Stiles sniffled, nodding shakily. Derek's arms tightened minutely, "Uncle Peter makes the best chicken noodle soup. You're going to like it."

"I'll go and help him make some biscuits to go with it." Laura murmured, rubbing over his fevered head and slipping away to leave Derek with the quietly crying little boy. 

"It's not your fault, Stiles." 

Derek pressed his face into the back of his neck and just held on. It was the first time Stiles had cried since they'd found out his mom was sick. Derek knew he needed it. "What if I get her sick, and she doesn't get better?"

Derek shifted so that Stiles was pinned between him and the bed, looking into watering, bloodshot, amber eyes. "Do you want me to ask my mom or Uncle Peter?" 

Stiles shook his head immediately, his fist curling in the front of Derek's shirt, "She doesn't know. I haven't told anyone, not even her. I wanna keep you _safe_." 

"Are you sure you don't want--?"

Stiles shook his head slowly, licking his dry, angry-looking lips. Derek looked round for a glass of water and got Stiles to take a drink before he let Stiles explain. "I worry a lot. About you and Laura and Peter." Stiles had his head ducked down, his body curled away from Derek, "I don't know what I'd do if I had to worry about her, too." Derek pulled Stiles out of the little ball and into his lap, hugging him. 

"You don't have to worry about us, Stiles, I wouldn't have told you if I thought--" Stiles jerked in his arms, and Derek immediately soothed him, "No, I trust you completely, but...I don't want you to worry." Stiles rested his forehead against Derek's shoulder while Derek rubbed his back, falling asleep before long. Derek laid him down and laid down with him, looking at the younger boy and seeing just how much younger he was for the first time. Derek watched the black creep up his veins as he pressed his hand to Stiles's temple and leeched his pain away, something in him aching as he watched Stiles's eyelashes flutter on his cheeks. Derek fell asleep listening to Peter and Laura downstairs; Peter talking about his silly high school students and teasing her that soon it would be them in his classes for him to torture. 

Derek fell asleep with a feverish little body pressed close under the covers, and woke up to the fever being gone. Stiles and Derek didn't talk about it again, didn't need to, but Derek would find a way every day to let Stiles know he was safe, they were safe, and that he needn't worry. 

With school, Derek and Laura couldn't play as much, but Stiles was perfectly content to sit between them and listen while they talked things out until they made sense when they didn't understand the question. 

"I need...to write a story. Stiles, what story should I write?" Laura asked lazily, tapping her pen absently against the blank page. 

"The princess and the dragon that has to guard her tower fall in love with each other." Stiles answered immediately. Laura's features went from bored to intrigued so fast it was a wonder she didn't suffer from emotional whiplash, and Derek chuckled to himself. Stiles always had the best stories. 

When Stiles's dad was late that night, Derek's mom got a call, and Peter told Derek to find some clothes for Stiles to sleep over in. Stiles didn't ask, didn't have to, and he didn't cry at all when Laura snuck into Derek's room with them and the three of them climbed into bed together. Derek had never been so content to be someone's teddy bear in his entire life, but he'd trade the world if it would mean Stiles didn't have to worry about his mom being sick and his best friends being werewolves. 

 

....

 

Cancer wasn't what killed Stiles's mother four and a half years later. 

Derek felt the car crash as if he'd been there to live it, and he knew unequivocally that Stiles was. It took him an hour before he could calm down enough to shift back, choking out that there was something wrong, he had to be taken to the hospital--taken to where Stiles would be, in the hospital. He'd never seen his family go so pale as when he'd managed to get those words out, and Laura burst into silent tears that wouldn't stop. 

Peter and Rebecca drove Derek and Laura to the hospital, running into Deaton before they even got to the nurse's station to ask. Deaton led Derek down the corridor that reeked of sickness and chemicals and death. Stiles was tiny in the bed like he hadn't ever seemed to be. Derek stood frozen in the doorway for a long time, the pain and anguish in the room choking him. Sheriff Stilinski was oscillating between his wife and his son, the chair beside Stiles's bed empty for the moment, until Derek was across the room and filling it, his hands shaking as he reached for the long, delicate hand half-hidden in Stiles's cast. "You look like hell." Stiles croaked, his eyes barely slit open. 

Derek broke and started crying. Everything in him wanted to take away Stiles's pain, to protect him and keep him and have him close, closer, closest. "You're an idiot." Derek breathed. Stiles's fingers moved out from his hands, rubbing through Derek's hair where he'd pressed his forehead against the bed. 

"But I'm your idiot, so it's okay." Stiles chuckled dryly. His fingers were trembling, sweeping over his ear and against his scalp. Stiles's breath caught painfully, his heart picking up speed, "M-My mom..." 

Derek didn't care that he was on the cusp of fourteen, or that Stiles was just newly nine; he turned his head so his cheek laid against the scratchy blankets, and showed Stiles just how okay it was to cry, because he was crying himself. 

He even moved his head into the touch when Stiles dried his tears from his cheeks, Stiles's own sopping wet. Peter didn't let Laura go in with them; didn't go in himself. This moment was Derek's moment with Stiles, and theirs alone. 

Derek stayed by Stiles's side every minute he was allowed to, held his hand as they buried his mother, and whispered to him in the darkness when Stiles would shake in his arms after Derek's mom would kiss both of them goodnight. Derek would walk Stiles home from school and they'd do their homework together. Peter was teaching Stiles how to cook and how to do weird science in the kitchen. When Stiles was diagnosed with ADHD, Derek's mother would take him to the appointments his dad couldn't, and when Stiles got frustrated at being told he just needed to better apply himself, Derek would pick a fight with him and argue Stiles into admitting how smart he was, that it was his teachers that were wrong about his intelligence. Stiles would come home after school and ramble about the insanity Jackson Whittemore was driving him to, or how Lydia Martin would be cool if she didn't act so stupid all the time, and how adorably dumb the McCall kid that had moved in a few blocks from Stiles's place was in the face of evil genius and Stiles Stilinski. 

After a while, they weren't back to the way they had been--and they never would be, they couldn't be. But when Stiles didn't flinch at Derek's mother kissing his cheek, Derek felt like Stiles was the sun and it'd been a long winter without his smile.


	2. I Know I Should Be Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter than the first chapter, I believe, and certainly far less fluffy.

The Hale house was burning. 

Stiles, Derek, and Laura stood at the bottom of the driveway gaping as the house was engulfed with flames. They'd tumbled out of the car Laura had gotten their mom to loan her, the night clear over their heads and now blazing with flames. 

Stiles roared in anger, lurching forwards only to have Derek's hand fist in the back of his shirt and drag him back, wrapping his arms around him as much as he could, "This...no…" Stiles choked, rage making his skin burn. With a crack of lightning, rain poured out of a sky that hadn't seen a cloud a second ago, the air around them thick with smoke but getting even thicker with power. Derek heaved Stiles even further back, panicking at the sheer heat coming off of him. Stiles's eyes had turned flat black, his skin glowing an eerie white as he stared into the flames. Stiles's attention snapped to the left, to the treeline leading into the forest, and a roaring column of flame shot from the house to the treeline, catching a figure standing hidden in the shadows of the night and igniting the canister of gasoline that she'd been holding. Laura was half-shifted and roaring before they could blink, and Stiles tore out of Derek's grip, running for the burning house unnaturally fast. Derek yelled out, Laura running for the treeline in pursuit of whoever had done this, and Stiles flinging the door open with a flick of his wrist and a kick of power he wasn't supposed to have. 

Derek took off for Stiles, his arm covering his nose and mouth as he got closer to the flames, choking on the smoke, his eyes watering, as Stiles stumbled from the bowels of the house with Peter's arm slung over his shoulders and a small body tucked into Stiles's side. Peter was still alive; Derek could hear his heartbeat, faint, and his choking breaths...but as Stiles collapsed to his knees, coughing thickly himself, Derek knew that Izzy was gone. Stiles turned his head to look back at the house, a thick line of blood running down his nose from the power he'd exerted, and Derek only just caught his shoulder, stopping him before he could run back into that inferno, collapsing next to him in the grass, his body between Stiles and Peter and Izzy and the flames as something snapped in the house, and an explosion rocked the night even more violently. Derek's hand slid through Stiles's hair, hugging him close as he shook, his skin too cold from having used forces he shouldn't have had access to, his face hidden against Derek's chest as they both wept, the sky bleeding every drop of rain it could high above them. 

Laura only emerged from the forest after the emergency services had arrived. Stiles had screamed when Izzy had been pronounced dead; Derek stepping between him and the gurney, herding him back and taking the blows as Stiles cried and struck out in grief that matched his own. Laura plucked Stiles into her arms, Derek closing his arms around both of them, sick with pain and a roar in his throat that could shake the very foundations of the world. 

"It was an Argent...a hunter." Laura breathed.

"Peter's inhaled a lot of smoke, and he has minor burns...but he's catatonic." Derek whispered back. 

Between them, Stiles quivered and shook, Laura curling her fingers in his hair and soothing noises tumbling out of her throat, "You held the flames back from getting him, Stiles--"

"I should've saved them all." Stiles ground out, his voice like glass through a blender. 

Derek and Laura held him tighter, all three of them crying steadily as they watched the firefighters tame the last of the flames. They went with the Sheriff when he came to lead them away, bundling close in the back of his squad car, soaked through with rain and stained with the smell of smoke; Stiles smeared with ash and Derek singed where the explosion had reached his clothes and the rain had put them out. 

"Peter's going to the hospital, but I think it'd be for the best if you three went home and slept before you go to see him." The sheriff told them uncomfortably. Derek blinked slowly, glancing down at the time. Somehow what had been simultaneously seconds and lifetimes had managed to equal out to almost four hours, leaving them in the cold hours after midnight. Derek nodded his assent, willing Laura to go along with him. Derek pulled Stiles down from between them, holding onto him for comfort as much as it was in order to give it, closing his eyes and breathing into Stiles's hair until it stopped smelling so much of fire. 

Derek and Laura ordered Stiles into the shower first summarily, Laura stealing one of Derek's shirts from his drawer of Stiles's and a pair of Stiles's sweatpants, curling into the red hoodie Peter had gotten him for Christmas the year before and lying down on Stiles's bed with her black hair splayed over the pillow. Derek waited until Stiles was out of the shower, taking a change of clothes for himself and slipping into the washroom as Stiles climbed into bed with Laura, his eyes far too red and his skin far too pale. 

Derek made it through the shower before the full weight of the grief hit him, crumbling his knees out from under him, until it was all he could do to catch himself, heaving bile into the toilet. He could hear Stiles pick the lock on the bathroom door smoothly, Stiles's hands shaking as he handed Derek a glass of water and sat down with his knees against his chest, head turned to watch him with glazed eyes, "You saved Peter's life." Derek rasped out. 

Stiles sniffed back more tears, blinking, "You're all family. This isn't fair." Stiles reached for him, pulling him in and curling up around him on the bathroom floor, running his shaking fingers through Derek's hair and pushing out his trembling breaths even when they tried to choke him. "I have to call the Aunts and tell them...tell them that I've managed to inherit the family legacy." 

"I'm worried...that was a lot of power, and you've never shown any signs of it before." Derek admitted, his ear pressed against Stiles's heartbeat. It was a steadying sound, more comforting than Laura's because it didn't come with the soft, broken sobs she was gasping out into Stiles's pillows. 

Stiles eventually coaxed them both upright, sleep pulling at his eyes even as he brought them both to being vertical, and they folded into bed with Laura, the wolves bracketing their human instinctively, protecting him between them as Stiles just held on, his fingers petting through their hair even as the three of them all dozed off. 

Derek, Laura, and Peter left two weeks later, after the funeral, even with Peter still unable to form a word, while Stiles was paying a quick visit to the Aunts, and wouldn't know they'd left until he returned two days later. Neither Hale twin could bring themselves to call, pacifying themselves it was safer for him not to know where they were...even with a voice whispering in the back of Derek's head that Stiles would worry. He'd tear the world apart if he could. Because he wouldn't know if they were safe. 

The thing about true magic--born-power that was passed through a bloodline, usually from mother to daughter or father to son--was that it was valuable, and it could easily be stolen. Poachers of that power had ways of picking up on who used it and where. Hunters alternately hated and took advantage of it. 

A war broke out in Beacon Hills. The Argents declared war against the witch who'd killed Kate, even though she'd started the Hale fire and broken the Code. Stiles was the target to hunters both sane and batshit crazy--and, being forced to use his powers, poachers began to circle, marking him doubly. 

It was years before Derek learned this, though. They'd settled in New York, and Derek had agreed to chasing away some omegas that were stirring up trouble. The man was flea-infested, Derek could tell just by looking at him, buying time with the sneer that he'd been through the Beacon Hills warzone. That the little human witch was being sieged; that it was a matter of time before he fell to the forces baying for his blood. Derek knew better than to hope he didn't mean Stiles, but he hoped anyway, and was very nearly sick when that hope was dashed. 

Derek left without telling Laura or the still-silent Peter where he was going, driving through day and night to reach the hellhole they'd run from so long ago. 

Stiles was in the shower when Derek scaled through his bedroom window, a bloodstained shirt laying discarded over the side of his hamper and the scent of magic overpowering, sending every instinct Derek had recoiling from the power. But then, that was the point; protection wards littered the room, the house, and they were created to force away anyone Stiles hadn't specifically let in. 

Derek heard Stiles 'hm' to himself, and a dart of power pierced through the room, triggering the stereo to turn on. Derek grit his teeth and forced himself not to run as Stiles hummed along softly, getting dressed and dancing out of the bathroom. A flick of Stiles's wrist, without any indication Stiles had even seen him, sent Derek smashing backwards into the wall, demure amber eyes eventually shifting upwards to look at him. Stiles didn't react at all, as if he didn't even know it was Derek, a glance to the stereo turning the volume down. 

"You're trespassing." Stiles's voice was deeper and a little less expressive, his cheeks more gaunt, his skin more pale, and his hair shorn off so that no one could run their fingers through it--not anymore. 

"Stiles--" 

Stiles's fists clenched, and Derek's voice choked off like something had closed around his throat. "Brave or stupid to fight through these wards. Then again, wolves have such an apt reputation for being headstrong." Derek could feel a storm building outside, to match the atmosphere in the room, and Stiles grit his teeth shortly, releasing his fists like it was a concerted effort to unclench them. "Hunters aren't thin on the ground, and they're all baying for my blood, so I'd suggest you get in your sleek little black car and leave now." 

"Stiles, I--"

"You're not an Alpha, you're not strong enough to survive this town. _Get out_." Stiles's fingers waved smoothly, and the window Derek had climbed through opened again, the next thing Derek knew he was on the ground, his legs moving of their own volition to his car. Derek looked up in time to see Stiles sliding his window shut by hand, rage in every line of his face as the sky cracked open just as violently as the night it had when the Hale house had burned. Stiles's words rang through Derek's head, the feeling of _other_ still a cold clench under his skin. He knew Stiles remembered him; knew just as surely as he knew that Stiles was a part of him that he never, ever should have left behind. Derek drove away from the Stilinski house in a hollow daze, his lungs unwilling to breathe as he pulled up the drive to the burnt out shell that still stood vigil. 

Stiles's scent was here; along with several others, all young but determined. Wolves were on the air as well, an Alpha Pack insignia on the door, though it seemed to be fading and peeling away, leaving the door standing proudly even as whatever they'd used to emboss it was pushed off the face of the door by magic that felt like Stiles's anger and smelt like Stiles's grief. This place was a base of operations, and as much as it still felt like a part of him, it wasn't his anymore. Not just his. 

Derek recognized the sound of the sheriff's cruiser pulling up behind his Camaro, and he turned to face another family member he'd abandoned. 

Sheriff Stilinski had aged well, all things considered; fatigue was written in every feature, and grief, but he hadn't spoiled under it. "Derek? Derek Hale?" 

"Sir." Part of Derek was tensing, readying for the sheriff to take a swing at him, for some modicum of the rage Stiles had acquired to seep through to his father, too, but he was met with a bonecrushing hug, the older man smacking his back twice as he laughed, relieved tears in his eyes. 

"We didn't know if you and Laura were alive or dead...Stiles told me that you'd be targets still, that that was why you'd taken off...he told me you'd be okay, but I...it's good to see you, son." 

"I...I tried to see Stiles--"

The sheriff's eyes widened, sweeping over him as if looking for damage, "You're not visibly bleeding…" The sheriff shook his head, shrugging as if he were trying to shake of shock, "things have...changed, with Stiles. When you and Laura left, he...it was...he started having panic attacks--night terrors. You did what you thought was best for your safety, but...it left him cold, with a second family _gone_ , Derek, and he still won't leave anyone behind." Derek's breath caught, the memories hitting him once again. The sheriff held up a staying hand, shaking his head. "Don't apologize to me--but if you aren't here to stay, I have to ask you not to see him again." 

"I...I understand." Derek swallowed thickly, ducking his head, "I'm sorry. I never meant…"

"I know you didn't. That's the only reason I'm not telling you to get out of my town outright. Now, I can't help you win him over, but I can give you a place to stay. If you're going to stick around, come to the house. If not, it was good seeing you, son." The sheriff slapped him on the arm, walking around to the cruiser again. 

"You're not going to help me win him over?" Derek asked, skeptical because it sounded an awful lot like that was exactly what the sheriff intended to do. 

"I said I _can't_ , not that I wouldn't try." The sheriff laughed, climbing into the car. "Be careful, Derek. This town will eat you alive." 

Derek turned back to the monument of grief for a moment, the sheriff driving away, before he climbed into his car. 

He was halfway out of the woods when the car jerked hard, his side of the car crunching inwards violently, T-boned so hard that impacting with the treeline had the car almost vertical. Dazed, Derek shook broken glass out of his hair, turning his head to see a black SUV revving back onto the road, its front end smashed up. 

Tires screeched down the road, a powder blue Jeep squealing up. Stiles stumbled from the car, taking one look at the wreck in the trees, and his eyes turned flat black, power roaring through him because Derek was in danger. The Camaro jerked slightly, lifted and raised off the tree by the tree itself, and set carefully down on the grass of the ditch. The other side of the forest lashed out, branches piercing through and tearing apart the SUV where it stood, crunching through glass and metal before tossing the car aside like a used tissue. Stiles was at Derek's door as the SUV bounced once--twice off of the road, igniting in a roaring inferno. The twisted metal under Stiles's hands protested, shrieking as it was wrenched from where it had crumpled inwards and twisted inextricably. Stiles rent the door from the frame, throwing it into the grass blindly as he reached through to get to Derek. Cool hands cupped his cheek and jaw, turning his head as amber eyes searched him over desperately. Stiles was pale, his scent a miasma of anguish and worry as he produced a knife from his ankle and cut through the seat belt, carefully supporting Derek so he wouldn't simply fall out of the vehicle unrestrained. 

"Hold still!" Stiles snapped as Derek sluggishly tried to support himself, half-raising his hands to Stiles's before he let them drop. "Don't move…" Stiles breathed, "Don't you dare fucking move. You make these injuries worse and I'll heal you up only to kick your ass." Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek's back and legs, power wrapping around Derek and lifting him. A thick smell of blood that wasn't his reached Derek's nose, Stiles's breathing a little uneven and heavy with the amount of power he was exerting. "Your legs are broken, maybe some ribs…I need to get you home." 

"I can't walk." 

"No shit," Stiles laughed breathlessly. He twisted to the Jeep, "Erica, we good?"

"Peachy. We can move him into the Jeep." A blond woman came loping up, placing her hand on Stiles's shoulder, looking over his shoulder at Derek. "You good?"

"I'm going to have a big fucking headache."

"You should get tall, dark and studly here to cuddle it out of you." Erica grinned, ignoring Stiles's eyeroll. 

"I hate you." 

"Yeah, yeah. Ready, studly? One, two...three." Derek watched as Stiles's hand fit into Erica's, the power picking up around him as the two of them moved him along, Stiles ebbing a small stream of the blonde's energy to power his magic. 

"Stiles…" Derek groaned, looking up at him pleadingly. 

"You two could be adorable." Erica cooed. "Get in the back with him, bright eyes, I'll drive." 

"Thanks, Reyes." 

Stiles pillowed Derek's body against his in the back seat. Stiles touched his forehead gently, looking down over Derek's broken body, watching carefully as Derek knit slowly back together. "Derek Hale, this is Erica Reyes, my Catwoman. Erica, this is Derek Hale. Yes, _that_ Derek Hale." 

"The Derek Hale you've been in love with since you were tiny? So cute." 

"Erica, I will kill you." 

"Oh, please, you love me." 

"You're my best girl." Stiles murmured warmly, "But I'll still kill you. I saved your life, doesn't mean I won't kick your ass." 

"Tell him the story, Batman." Erica ordered. 

"We want to keep him conscious, Erica, not to put him out cold." 

"Aw, but you're all heroic and life-saving! Stiles had a vision and caught me from falling off the rock wall at school during gym class." 

"See, there! You told him the story." Stiles laughed breathlessly, cradling Derek's head between his shoulder and his hand, willing Derek to heal faster and magic making it happen. "Was it the fangs or the guns?" 

"Guns. Argents." Erica answered snippily, fury under her voice. "Two of them. You put a tree root through the skull of one, but the other made it past the hotspot." 

"The other was Allison, wasn't it?" Stiles snarled. Erica bobbed her head in the affirmative, and Derek could almost feel Stiles's rage wash over him like a tidal wave. 

"She may be the Disney princess to my wicked witch, but I'm done playing by the fairytale rules." Stiles intoned. From the jump in Erica's heartrate, the words meant something that Derek didn't know to grasp. "Call Lydia and Danny, tell them to batten down the hatches with Scott; he's officially sidelined." 

"That'll put a kink in things with Isaac." 

"Isaac needs to make his move before I pull a middle school on him and slip Scott a note from him reading 'Will u luv me y/n?'" Erica let out a short burst of delighted laughter, pulling smoothly into the Stilinski's driveway and hopping out to circle around and help Stiles with Derek. "I don't think we're going to need Deaton, but calling Melissa would help, if you'd be so marvellously kind." Stiles's phone went off in his pocket, and Erica slipped it out without being asked or given permission, reading as she repeated what they'd done to get Derek into the Jeep, blindly taking the stairs of the porch and the entrance easily. 

"Your dad's worried about he of the eyebrows." She informed him, "He knows it was an Argent attack and he's not best pleased." 

"We're fine, we're home, we're safe." Stiles rattled, kneeling next to the couch as Derek touched down. "Derek's broken and bloodied and bruised, but he's a wolf, so it's a temporary state." 

"Stiles?" Erica asked softly as Stiles touched Derek's temple and darkness started to close around him, "How did you know he was in trouble?"

Stiles shrugged, and it was the last thing Derek saw before Stiles took away his consciousness, "The same way I knew you needed me; same way I knew Isaac was being beaten. You're pack, you're family, and I love you." Derek was out to the sound of Erica's laughing 'awww'. 

 

In Derek's coat pocket, his phone buzzed with a new text: Laura telling him she was on her way.


	3. There Is No Calm, Just Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, sorry, I know, but I wanted to put it up for some suspense for what comes next, and to make it into a more bite-size piece so any hate/confusion/etc. you have for me can be dealt with before adding on more.

Derek awoke to Laura slamming Stiles up against the wall, violence in her eyes. He was across the room, pinning his Alpha and twin to the wall before he could register anything else. 

"Whoa! Derek, no!" Stiles shouted, grasping his shoulders and tugging him away gently, getting him to sit. Stiles crouched in front of him, looking him over to make sure he was healed while Laura stared him down, the both of them utterly startled that he'd done that; that he'd gone for her throat at the sight of Stiles pinned under her arm. "You stay off your legs for a while longer, Derek, the break's healed, but it won't be back to being able to kick ass and take names again for a bit." 

"What the hell--" Stiles snapped a look over his shoulder at Laura, and she was bounced back against the wall again, Stiles drawing himself up slowly to his full height.

"I am Alpha of Beacon Hills. I'm Alpha already, and I'm still human. You left the territory undefended, you left a witch without a pack or a coven. You are not the Alpha here: I am." 

"That's why the Alpha Pack wants you." Derek surmised. 

"Yes. A witch with my power, already an Alpha, turned into a wolf? I'd be a walking atomic bomb." Stiles told him flippantly, "Now, since that's as close to pleasantries as either of you deserve: what the fuck are you two chuckleheads doing back in Hell?" Stiles caught Laura's hand before she could hit him, twisting her arm and setting his knee against her back in a movement that was unnaturally graceful. "You get one more shot, and then I drop you on your ass in Australia, and believe me when I say you will not like space-time travel." Stiles grit, his power flooding his eyes, "I grew up, and it was without either of you." 

Stiles released her and rocked back glaring from one to the other. Derek swallowed, taking a deep breath before he tried to find his tongue, "An omega...told me what was going on. I had to find you, Stiles. It's not enough, but I'm so sorry." Derek was using puppy dog eyes and the expression of a kicked puppy, forcing Stiles to question how word got around that he was a sucker for the eyes. He would blame Scott, because Isaac was too sweet to blame.

"Why did you cut your hair?" Laura asked, voice shaking. 

Stiles turned on her like it was taking all of his strength not to snap, "I cut my hair so that I wouldn't have a reminder of you two any time someone ran their fingers through my hair." Stiles hissed. Derek caught his hands before he could storm away, pulling Stiles back in. 

"Don't. Just give me a chance. Please?" 

Laura snarled, "You don't need a chance: we didn't do anything wrong!" 

"No! No, you just left me. Here. With my mom and my second family gone completely. You wanna know why I stopped looking for you a year ago? Alpha Markus of New York sent three of his Betas here to help with the bloody fucking _dragon_ , and Carolina told me you were there and safe. Said that Markus asked you if you'd return. Said that you'd refused." Stiles spat at Laura, eyes dangerously dark, the room seeming to vibrate with energy. Derek was on his feet again and roaring at the last, though. Laura had known Stiles was in trouble, and she hadn't said a word. Stiles pressed his open hand against Derek's chest, looking into his eyes with blazing strength, and Derek had never felt quite so enthralled with Laura as he did with Stiles, like Stiles had been his Alpha all along. "You showed me your belly when we were little. You submitted to me, years ago, and the bond never broke." 

"You should have called me home." 

Stiles's eyes grew sad, "Why? All I wanted to know was that you were safe. You wanted to get away...I should've broken the bond." 

"Yeah, you should've." Laura sneered, eyes flashing red. 

Derek growled, the protective urge towards Stiles getting his back up against his twin. "What the hell happened to you?" Derek hissed. 

"I'm sick of this kid getting in the way of you moving on from this hellhole! Our parents died here; our uncle lost his mind here, there is nothing but him holding us back from being a real pack!" 

"We're not a pack, Laura! Not without Stiles. Not without _family_. Stiles was family, and we left him--" He cut himself off when Laura opened her mouth to protest again, "If you say that Stiles wasn't family, so help me God, I will beat sense into you." 

Stiles stepped between them, shaking his head at Derek, "Enough. Derek, I'm breaking the bond, Laura should be your Alpha, you should be in New York with her. I don't have time to keep track of the two of you here, nor the energy. You two leave tonight. It'll be safe for you to leave tonight, the Argents won't be able to follow you--"

"Why?" Derek demanded. 

Stiles smiled sweetly, condescendingly, "Doesn't concern you." Stiles looked to Laura again, "I put it in place with Markus that this territory will be added to his by extension, yours if you want it. You can work it out with him when you get back what to do when it comes time--" 

" _When you die!_ " Derek snarled, "I'm not leaving, Stiles, you can't make me go. Not again." 

Stiles looked at him sadly, "Derek, I can make you do exactly that." 

"No!" Derek protested, coming forwards like he'd physically stop Stiles from banishing him away, "Stiles, don't, please." Stiles's hand shook as he raised it, snapping his fingers together once. Laura watched as Derek was engulfed in a shower of white lights, disappearing before her very eyes. 

"You'll find him in your apartment in New York. When I cut the bond making me his Alpha, you have to order him to stay away. Stay safe, kid." The white lights took Laura without his needing to snap his fingers at all, leaving Stiles to wrestle with the sensation that he'd just torn his own heart out as he laid down and built up all the hard-edged anger; all the walls that kept him safe. 

"Your mistake to make, boss, but I don't like that you made it." Erica told him from the doorway. 

"The last thing I need is another wolf thinking I'm a sheep amongst them."

Erica snorted, shaking her head as she shifted, leaning her hip against the doorframe, "You're the wolf amongst the sheep, gnawing at the wool over your eyes." 

Stiles turned to her slowly, holding his hand out, and offering a smile as he twirled her in, dipping her low. "Love me?" 

"More than you want me to, sweetheart, even with Boyd." Erica admitted quietly, her blond hair a waterfall almost to the ground. 

"Sorry, sweetheart." 

"You found your Immortal Beloved at three, Stiles. And, can I just say? You were not exaggerating when you told me how gorgeous he is." Stiles smiled sadly once more, head ducked and face turned. Erica slipped her hand around the back of his neck, leaning into his space and setting their foreheads together, willing him to feel better. "There's trouble in Gotham, Batman. Let's go play." 

Stiles's lips twitched upwards, his arms wrapping around Erica, pulling them in together as the fatigue seeped into his very bones. "You save my life sometimes, E." 

"Anytime you need me to, angel eyes." 

Neither of them felt the eyes watching through the window, and neither of them would know that it meant more than a broken heart that Stiles had rid himself of the Hales again. It meant much, much more.


	4. There Is Simply Nothing Worse Than Knowing How It Ends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me.

Peter had watched his niece and nephew reappear in their New York apartment with the scent of the same magic that had saved him on the air, and something in him snapped when he took in the look on Derek's face. 

Peter had been silent for years, stuck in the grief of having lost his mate; his children; his family. And now Derek, one of the last members of family he had left, had lost his mate, too. Peter wasn't about to take that lying down.

Peter snagged Derek's arm before Laura could say a word, dragging him along beside him as he headed for the door, ignoring his niece as she sputtered behind them. Peter didn't need to speak as he tugged Derek along, Laura's keys in his hand as they went through to parking. Peter threw Derek into the passenger's seat, sliding in the driver's and roaring out of the garage as Laura appeared in the stairwell Peter had run them down. 

"What are we doing?! Peter?!" 

Peter hadn't used his tongue in years, and Derek, of the Hale twins, was definitely the one that hadn't ever pressured him to. Derek had been almost as silent as he was for a long time; like he'd left everything he had to say behind. Peter glanced over at him, a look of pity in his eyes. Peter ignored Laura's calling, and when she switched to Derek's phone, he took it from his nephew's hand and threw it out the window. 

"Peter…" Derek breathed as Peter drew into the lane for the airport, parking and gesturing Derek to come with him. 

He wasn't about to let Derek ruin himself. Laura was as much Peter's Alpha as she had been Derek's; and though he loved his niece, she needed to grow up a little further before he could even consider submitting to her as he had to his sister. Peter got the soonest ticket to LA, turning to Derek as he led him through to security and turned to him. "Go." 

Derek's features shifted, shock, gratitude, confusion, calculation--he gripped Peter's forearm for a moment. "Thank you." He breathed, turning and filtering through into the security line as Laura's running feet could be heard catching up to them. 

"What do you think you're doing?!" Laura was wearing the mask of an Alpha, but she would never have Peter's submission to it. For as broken as he was, Peter knew the undeniable value of human love, and Laura still hadn't gotten it. Peter stepped past her silently, ghosting into the crowd and then disappearing back to the car. If he knew his nephew, he had a drive to start, just to make sure that the job got done right. 

Peter didn't envy him that, though; it was high time he went home. 

….

A strawberry-blonde bombshell was glaring expectantly at Derek in the Arrivals terminal, hands on her hips and brow cocked. "Hello, Derek Hale." 

"Wh--" The question died in his throat as Erica flounced up beside her, smiling lopsidedly. 

"The Aunts gave Lydia here a call that you were coming back." Erica told him, "I figured I'd come with her so you have a friendly face to recognize." 

Lydia gave him a blatant once-over, looking even less impressed, " _This_ is the reason Stiles won't date? Really?" 

Erica knocked her hip into Lydia's, grinning, "At least he's cute." 

"You're cute, too. I'm five times cuter than he is. Stiles needs to have better standards." Lydia whirled in a toss of flowery perfume and frustration, striding towards the signs for the parking structure. 

Erica shook her head, slipping her arm through Derek's and leading them in Lydia's wake, "Ignore her, she's just jealous because you've had Stiles's heart for as long as we've known him and his not being in love with her makes him the only friend of hers she can't play like an upright bass." 

Driving with Peter, Derek had been too distracted by his uncle's sudden change in demeanour to be nervous, but the car crash caught up to him with Lydia and Erica. Lydia looked back at him before long, bending to the bag at her feet and handing something back to him subtly, Erica busy with driving and bickering good-naturedly with Lydia to notice. Derek unfolded the worn tatter of a shirt, the scent of Stiles hitting him, wrapping around him, safe and warm as if Stiles had wrapped him in a hug. Derek felt a wave of gratitude towards Lydia, catching her glittering green eyes as she turned back to the front from looking at him once more. Derek curled into his seat a little, letting himself, brining the shirt up and breathing deep, the scent washing him clean in a way, uncoloured by the rage and grief that had coated Stiles while he'd been there. 

"The boss isn't going to like this." Erica told Lydia happily. 

"Stiles can take that up with the Aunts." 

"He might." Erica's tone grew heavy, switching lanes as she heaved a sigh, "He's worried about all of us. Especially you, the way Allison turned on you." 

"Allison was two-faced and clever. It just also happened that I'm cleverer. I knew Allison's wasn't the side I wanted on, I just didn't know what the war quite entailed."

Erica's brow wrinkled, her eyes narrowing, "You planted a bug, didn't you?" Erica's voice was like Stiles's when pleased: infinitely fond. 

"I planted _many_. Stiles can rely on his sixth sense about our safety all he wants, but when the Argents strike, I'm going to be there beside him." 

"Which leaves the Alphas nicely in the court of Boyd, Isaac, and I." 

"Scott…?" 

"Scott's out of the game. Stiles made the call while Gorgeous back there was here the first time." 

"You know that's not going to actually sideline him." 

Derek roused, "What about those...magic--"

"The poachers? Stiles, Danny, and the Sheriff teamed up on them. Danny and Stiles got them caught up in a massive weapons and drugs sting operation, and the Sheriff's managed to set it up well enough to get them all locked away for the foreseeable future with Danny's help." Erica told him cheerfully. 

"Having a hacker on our side helps." Lydia muttered, "Though Stiles is even more reluctant to put Danny in danger than he was to bring us into it." 

"Yeah, but that's because he's _Danny_. Everyone loves Danny." 

"He's a loveable kind of guy." Lydia agreed. She looked back at Derek, "With the Argents and the Alphas so thick on the ground right now, we're going to have to step up our game to keep him safe." 

"You--" 

"We really, really do need to protect you, don't think you know better than us on that." Erica interrupted. 

"Stiles hasn't broken the bond he has as this guy's Alpha yet, has he?" 

"No, he needs to recharge some, or it'd kill him outright." 

"What did you leave him doing?" 

"Playing tag." Erica laughed mockingly, Lydia grinning far too widely. 

"He's going to kill an Alpha and we aren't even there!" Lydia cackled, Erica's foot pressing down on the gas in response, sliding through traffic like a hot knife through butter. 

"He's _what_?!" 

Erica smirked at Lydia, gesturing like she was doing her a courtesy to allow her to explain to the werewolf what was going on. "Stiles has riddled the forest with his magic, and we found out the easy way that Alpha-baiting is ridiculously simple. Stiles will rile one into chasing him, through the town, usually, then into the forest. The last time I followed him on one of his games of tag, he'd conjured a Will o' the Wisp and let it fry the Alpha." 

"Last time I went, he opened the ground itself and had it swallow the guy like some sort of horrible perversion of the Whomping Willow." 

"Don't tell him we followed him, though." Lydia requested sweetly. 

"He'd laugh, but he'd also make it impossible for us to do it again." 

"And we're the only back-up he has." 

"So it wouldn't do well for us to be otherwise engaged." 

Derek gripped the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb, groaning at the headache behind his eyes, "How is the town still standing?" 

"Barely. Most of the people in town now are hunters sided with the Argents, then there are the Alphas, and the only threat that isn't thick on the ground are the poachers, now even less with having been tossed into the jail system. My family is still here because I'm in it; Lydia and Boyd, too. Isaac's dad was killed, he's living with the McCalls. Scott and Melissa stayed because of Stiles, and he protects all of us like we're blood, basically. The Alphas are too close to exposing wolves, so every few months a new batch of supposed back-up will come in to try to help take them down. Stiles has put an end to most of it, but some of the outliers won't see a human knows best. Their delegates usually do, before the end." 

"I should have been told." Derek growled, thinking of his mother's love of the little coffee shop and bookstore in the square and his father's words on protecting your territory. 

"Everyone thought your Alpha was your sister, Eyebrows." Erica told him gently. 

"But, to be fair, even if Stiles had been aware he was your Alpha, he would have just severed the tie and let Laura know to claim you. You never would have found out." Lydia chirped. 

Derek growled low, a rumble that neither woman could hear. 

"As Stiles's honorary sisters, we're going to make you swear a blood oath that you will not hurt him." 

"And the consequences of breaking that oath are having your skin flayed off and/or being tarred and feathered." 

"Possibly with real tar; probably with super glue." 

Derek stared at the backs of their heads, eyes wide, "You two are terrifying." 

Erica grinned, "It's why Stiles loves us." 

…..

Blazing into Beacon Hills was the easy part. Getting captured by the Alpha Pack was also the easy part. What Laura couldn't bear, though, was the look on Derek's face; on Stiles's, as the Alpha gripped her by the back of the neck to show off his prize before killing her.

Derek roared for his twin, Stiles lashed out with his powers. The Alphas had thought killing her would be a gift to Stiles. They were wrong.


	5. Only For You, Only For You

What no one counted on was Isaac Lahey rugby-tackling the Alpha while wielding the enchanted bowie knife Stiles had given Lydia for Christmas the year before. What he was lacking in battle cry, he made up for with timing and finesse. (Read: Sheer dumb luck.)

The female of the Alpha pack launched herself at Derek instead of going for the kill with Isaac while Laura helped him kill off the woman's packmate, and Stiles felt power explode out of him like he was an atomic bomb even without the bite. Derek caught his claws around her throat as the remaining wolves of the Alpha Pack were thrown like ragdolls, slicing through her skin with one twitch of his fingers. 

"Shit!" Lydia snapped, running for Isaac and Laura while Erica edged towards their witch. "He's an Alpha now." Lydia breathed, staring at Derek even as she helped Isaac and Laura up. 

"Stiles, baby...I need you to calm down." Erica coaxed, hands up and open non-threateningly. "Derek's not hur--" Erica cut off immediately as Derek whirled to face Stiles, stalking over to him and grabbing through the aura of crackling, electrified magic to yank him into his arms and then bend him into a kiss. The magic snapped through the room like a bomb going off, and Stiles deflated, on his feet only because of Derek. "Stiles?" 

"He's barely breathing." Derek rumbled, his eyes bright red. 

"He's having a seizure." Erica started panicking, Lydia hissing at her to move slowly. 

"Derek, we need to come close." Lydia told him, inching slowly, "Lay Stiles on the ground, please." 

"I won't hurt you if you help him." Derek snapped. 

"They know," Laura placated, "but he needs to be laid down anyway, and you're the strongest one here now, baby brother." Derek jerked at the sound of his sister's voice, obeying her at once and keeping Stiles's head between his arms, keeping him from jerking too hard. 

Erica and Lydia descended on either side of him in a rush, Lydia rooting through a small messenger bag on Stiles's hip and Erica taking his pulse and breathing out commands for Derek while the two women worked together. 

"He's used too much, Lyds." Erica sighed. 

"He's going to be down for the count for a while--"

"If we can get him stable first!" 

"Erica, I'll have none of that pessimistic crap: it's Stiles, he'll get out of this." 

"I wish there was a way for him to heal himself! He can get us back on our feet in minutes, but for him, he's knocked on his ass and he stays knocked!" 

"Well, we discussed that once. Stiles thought that if he'd mated a witch, they would have been able to constantly heal each other; would have fed off each other's power in a never-ending loop." 

"But he didn’t mate a witch. He mated me." Derek ground out angrily. 

"He's the last of his kind, sweetheart; he couldn't have mated a witch without there being some freaky incest things going on." Lydia and Erica shuddered in unison, and Derek found himself having to tamp down the urge to smile. Stiles began to steady under their care, and Derek pulled him upwards, against his chest, wrapping him up in a hug from behind and burying his face in the nape of Stiles's neck, whining like a goddamn puppy. 

"We need to get him home. We'll see how it goes tonight, and if he doesn't regain consciousness by tomorrow, he'll have to be hospitalized." Lydia told him.

Erica's hand rested on the back of Derek's head for a moment, "We've done this before, Derek; he's stable now, we know what we're doing. We need you to try to trust us, though." 

Laura helped Derek to stand, and then moved back to Isaac's side as Derek lifted Stiles into his arms, head draped against his shoulder and knees over his arm. Lydia and Erica hurried to Lydia's car, helping Derek to put Stiles and himself in, Laura and Isaac opting to go with them instead of the girls. Lydia communicated some sort of threat in the look she shot Isaac as she handed him her keys, and Isaac grinned at her, nodding. Isaac reached over the console when he slid in, into Stiles's pocket, pulling out Stiles's keys and tossing them to Erica, "He'll kill you if you hurt his car." Isaac reminded her, turning to Laura as he shut the door and started the engine. Laura's cheeks and the tips of her ears coloured, her eyes shining in a way Derek had never seen before, but neither of them said anything, and they both looked away quickly. 

Derek held Stiles's forehead in his palm, his head resting against Derek's chest. The Jeep shot past them, and Isaac took off in chase, keeping up with the Jeep as they burned through town to the Stilinski house. The fiasco of getting them out of the car and up to Stiles's bedroom was a blur to Derek, but before long, he was curled around Stiles as much as he could be; Lydia, Erica, Isaac, and Laura piled on the bed around them. 

"Derek," Laura murmured, barely above a whisper, "focus on the sound of Stiles's heartbeat for now. Being an Alpha heightens your powers; until you get used to them, focus them. And I'm betting focussing them on Stiles isn't going to be so hard." Laura teased, tugging on one of Derek's toes and laughing as Derek tried to kick her in the head. 

Stiles moaned in his sleep, his fist curling in Derek's shirt as he shifted, dislodging a disgruntled Isaac from his pillow of Stiles's hip. Derek wrapped his hand under Stiles's knee, pulling him into place against him and splaying his hand over the small of Stiles's back, pressing him close. "Keep it PG, Big Bad." Lydia admonished, playing with a tablet with her head against Erica's stomach. "Rub his head under threat of dismemberment. He doesn't let anyone touch his head." 

"He'll let me do it." Derek assured quietly, pressing a kiss to Stiles's forehead and hugging him as he sighed and melted into Derek's front. 

"You're the reason he won't let anyone do it." Lydia scoffed, "You might have done the whole song and dance, but you've still got all that shit to deal with, big guy." 

" _That's_ going to be...explosive." Erica laughed primly. 

"Twenty says fight." 

"Oh, please, I'll take that for odds on sex." 

"You're both idiots," Lydia told Isaac and Erica coolly, "it'll be both. And whatever room they do it in is not going to survive it." 

"Yeah, I'm with Lydia." Laura murmured, her fingers playing out a melody on Derek's thigh like it was piano keys under her fingers. 

"I feel extremely disturbed that this is a topic for conversation." Derek remarked, moving his leg to pin Laura's hand. "Stop that. Play someone else like a keyboard, you nutbag." 

"I volunteer." Isaac piped up.

"And now I'm grossed out. Get out: you're all disowned." 

"We do not belong to you, sourpatch." Erica snickered. "Stiles loves us: cooties and all." 

Derek heaved a sigh, shaking his head without opening his eyes, tucking his face under Stiles's jaw and letting the warmth and scent of Stiles take the tension out of him like a retreating tide. Laura's weight shifted, and Derek cracked open his eyes enough to see her beaming at him with tears in her eyes. 

"I'm sorry, baby brother." She whispered. He snorted, reaching down and pinching the soft of her arm in retaliation. "Bugger off--ten minutes counts!" 

"You were apologizing: go back to that." Derek mumbled, mostly muffled into the curve of Stiles's shoulder. 

"I'm sorry I took you away from him. I'm sorry I didn't get it." 

"What makes you get it now?" Derek asked on a yawn. He didn't need to see Laura to know she'd just guiltily glanced at Isaac, "I'm going to threaten you against hurting my sister later, but Stiles likes you, so I might like you...eventually."

"Isaac's an adorable puppy." Erica cooed. 

"Erica, I will have sex on everything you love." Isaac threatened, "Derek, I think the girls and I need to threaten you about hurting Stiles, too. Also, they should threaten Laura about hurting me." 

"We will, darling," Lydia drawled, waving her hair back to tip her head to Laura, "If you hurt our precious baby in any way, I'll do everything short of causing you bodily harm. Derek: if you hurt Stiles, there aren't words for how badly you will pay. He's been though enough hell." 

Derek felt guilt stab through him like a knife, and Laura hushed him quietly. "For now, we sleep. The pack will trickle in, and we'll hammer out everything come the dawn. We all need to rest." 

Derek hummed in agreement, and let himself fade away. 

….

Stiles was awake before Derek was the next morning, huffing silently in Derek's grip and trapped under the tangled mass of teenagers on his bed, "Pack piling needs a bigger bed." 

Derek smiled, not bothering to open his eyes, "I'll see what I can do about that…" 

"Why are you here?" Stiles asked, his fingers skimming over wounds that had left no trace on Derek's skin, that Stiles had never even seen, but had been exactly there anyway. 

"Because I don't care where we are, I just want to be with you." 

Stiles's breath caught, his fist closing against Derek's breastbone. "Derek, you should leave. This isn't your home, and it isn't your battle." 

"You're my home, Stiles. I'm not _going_ anywhere. You're stuck with me." 

"You're an Alpha now." 

"You've been an Alpha since we were kids. I can remember the day." Derek laughed. 

"What's going to happen now? 

"I'm staying, and I'd guess Laura will be, too. The Hale twins are back in town." 

"This city won't survive it." Stiles snickered. Derek could sense the pain under his skin, knew that it'd be there, with a side dish of mistrust and a reluctance to love. He didn't care; he'd get through those barricades. 

"How do you feel?" Lydia asked muzzily. 

Stiles reached down, tangling his fingers in her hair, "Like I've been hit by a freight train. So, about the same as I always feel." He laughed. 

"We have a big day." Erica roused, "We're ostracizing Allison today." 

Stiles made a sound like a strangled cockatoo. "I'm not sure I've got the gumption to go after Gerard while you guys are playing the misdirect. We need to wait for a bit, 'cause I might not completely be down for the count, but I'm about an inch away from being on the ropes." 

"What?" Laura asked, her head popping up from somewhere near Stiles's hip. 

"Gerard Argent's the puppetmaster to Allison Argent's puppet at the moment; she's technically in charge, but he's pulling her strings. So, if Lydia and Erica destroyed Allison, it'd centre focus away from Gerard, hopefully long enough that I can take him down without having to watch my back." Stiles explained, yawning widely, "We've managed patience thus far, guys, let's not blow it all to hell, yeah?" 

"No fun." Lydia sighed. 

"He'll make it up to us." Erica assured, patting her head consolingly. 

"Are you really sure you want in on this?" Stiles asked, "We're a big ol' bag of crazy on a good day." 

Derek and Laura looked at each other, wolfish grins sliding over their features slowly, "We're sure." 

"So, how would you go about ostracizing Allison Argent?" Laura asked as Isaac tumbled out of the pile and onto another body on the ground, both groaning. 

"Sorry, Danny." Stiles murmured. "The way you get any teenage girl to run away from her problems." 

Danny's hand shot up like it was a chemistry question, "By humiliating her publicly and breaking her heart." 

"We're mean." Erica commented, sighing. 

"Necessarily mean." Lydia corrected, "If she wasn't trying to kill us and the people we love, we'd be okay with the back-biting bitch." 

Erica tsked softly, reaching over and hugging Lydia, "You're just still mad because she tried to fry your car." 

"You'd be mad, too." Lydia told her crossly, "Christmas morning and she tries to start my car on fire!" 

"I'll make her hair fall out again if it'll make you feel better, Lyds." Stiles offered. 

"I'd rather she wake up growing a beard." Erica piped up. "She did try to torture my boyfriend and I, I kind of want vengeance." 

"Understandable." Stiles muttered, "We'll get vengeance, we just need to bide our time. I was there that night, remember? He had me, too, when he thought I was just the idiot best friend of Scott's before they figured out I was the one who killed Kate from the poachers after me. He beat me, too. Gerard is going to get his as soon as I can manage it, and then we're going to drive the hunters out of our town once and for all." 

Derek was tense, his head resting against Stiles's shoulder, "When?" 

"About six months after you left." Stiles told him, voice tight. Derek snarled shortly, his eyes flashing red. 

"You were kidnapped and beaten six months after I left? Before they realized it was you that killed Kate?!" 

"I'm going to cut him to ribbons." Laura told Stiles simply, "There won't be enough left of him to make chilli with." 

"I like her!" Lydia exclaimed with bursting enthusiasm.

"Seconded, Laura's officially one of the sisters." Erica muttered, high fiving Lydia before they both reached to high five Laura. 

"I think I'm terrified." Isaac whimpered. 

"I think that's the correct response, yeah."


	6. If I Could Change Anything...

Stiles's long fingers were curling against his neck, rubbing through his hair where he was laying against Stiles's side, tangled up and warm. "You make me feel so much better." Derek murmured into Stiles's chest. He was sleepy and lax, the steady thump of Stiles's heart beneath his ear and the warmth of the two of them having been here for hours already making his lashes flutter back down. "I wanted to come back to you the minute we left, Stiles." 

"You're back now." Stiles told him softly, "Kiss me." Derek obediently shifted, lifting himself up slightly to reach Stiles's mouth, Stiles's tongue sliding lazily into his mouth as his fingers curled in Derek's hair solidly, holding their mouths together. Stiles's legs slotted open around Derek's waist, his other hand drawing down the middle of Derek's spine. Derek rumbled against him, rolling his hips down as Stiles bucked up against him, both of them groaning at that. "You're mine, Derek, you can't leave me again, I can't take it." 

"I won't. I won't leave you again." Derek vowed on a breath, their hips rocking into a rhythm against each other. Stiles arched his back, moaning as Derek bent his head to Stiles's throat, making a bruise on his jugular and letting out a low purr at the wave of pleasure that caused in Stiles, drowning Derek's senses until he was drunk with it. "Laura needed a new life, far away from here. She was too young to take the Alpha powers; she didn't even know about what it was like for an Alpha to have a Beta that wasn't hers. It was something that she should have learned with time, but there wasn't enough." 

Stiles's hand pulled on his hair, the act a comfort as Derek pushed into it, settling down against Stiles's chest with a hand slipped under the hem of his shirt. "It's okay, Derek. It's okay now." 

"Laura can't be an Omega--" 

"She's not. Isaac is her pack, and so are the rest of us." Stiles soothed. 

"But...you and I...we make an Alpha pair…" 

"We do. But there also happens to be an Alpha Pack you helped me take care of not too long ago…" Stiles murmured with a devilish little grin, "I know it was hard for her. That's why she was so weird about the territory, about me defending it." 

"I'm not happy about that part, either." 

"It's okay, Derek. It doesn't matter now." Stiles's mouth was hot and wet against his neck, his hands slipping under the hem of Derek's shirt, running up over his back. "Take this off." He sighed, tugging lightly at the fabric. Derek shifted instantly, kneeling up and stripping the shirt off, letting Stiles move them so that he laid against the bed, Stiles above him. Stiles grinned in the darkness, his breath catching on a laugh, "You used to be so scrawny, I remember that…" Stiles muttered, taking him in. 

Derek laughed softly, his hands pulling Stiles's shirt off without asking, "You...didn't have any scars." Derek replied sadly, tracing hot, gentle touches over Stiles's marked skin. Derek took hold of him solidly, flipping them back so that he was laying above Stiles. He lowered himself down, licking and kissing the white, raised lines of skin where wounds had been, whimpering that they'd been there. "Stiles…" 

Long fingers tangled in Derek's hair and pulled gently, Stiles letting out a soft moan as Derek laved attention over the hollow of his shoulder. "I'm with you now. I'm safe." Derek slid an arm under Stiles's body, hooking him up and sitting back on his haunches as he pulled Stiles into a kiss. 

"You two do realize that you have an entire pack waiting to be fed downstairs, right?" Lydia interrupted, thumping on the door. 

Stiles cursed in Russian, of all things, and Lydia just laughed in reply, flouncing away from the door. "When did you learn that?" 

"I've learned how to curse in every language Lydia speaks." Stiles explained. "It just makes it easier." He shook his head, pulling reluctantly away and standing up, rolling his shoulders and stretching subtly, feeling Derek's eyes on him. 

"STILES! A HOT OLDER MAN IS AT THE DOOR!" Lydia bellowed up the stairs, and Stiles looked over at Derek. 

"THAT WOULD BE MY UNCLE!" Laura bellowed back, grossed out. 

Stiles snorted into laughter, grabbing a red hoodie and running from the room without pulling it on yet. "Down, girl!" 

Derek took off after him, barely missing running into the doorframe as he pulled his shirt on on his way. He performed a controlled fall down the stairs that his body still remembered doing from its adolescence. Landing to the scene of Stiles grinning wildly, Lydia pursing her lips, unimpressed, and Peter standing in the doorway was worth waking up. "Uncle Peter!" Peter startled, pulling Derek into a hug. 

"You...finally did it." Peter's voice was like gravel, but the pride in his eyes spoke enough. 

"Stiles and I are mates. We know it, we've bonded." 

"Not fully." Lydia corrected primly, "And I suggest you not do it in the sheriff's household when you do...fully...bond." There was a menacing gleam in her eye that made even Derek's stomach twist, her eyes on Stiles. 

"Wicked and hateful." Stiles wrinkled his nose at her, stepping forward and offering his hand to Peter, a light of familiarity and happiness in his eyes, "It's good to see you, Uncle Peter." 

Peter knocked the hand away, hugging him, too. Stiles looked into his eyes, holding his long hand up over Peter's chest. 

A soft glow of silver light shone from his palm, passing into Peter's chest. Peter visibly deflated, looking more at ease than he had in a long time; more healed. "I'm sorry." 

"You saved me, Stiles; I'm sorry I didn't get him back to you sooner." Peter looked pointedly at Derek. Derek's lips twitched up slightly, not quite a smile, but closer than he'd managed before. 

"It's good to hear your voice." Laura commented. 

Stiles looked at Peter with a question in his eyes, and Peter simply shook his head. They moved collectively to the living room, finding Isaac draped over Erica's lap with his legs sprawled over Boyd's, playing a video game with Danny curled in the bottom of a recliner with a book. "Erica is winning because we are starving, Stiles! We're wasting away!" 

"I hate you all." Stiles muttered, voice high and tight as he turned right around and headed for the kitchen, shaking his head. "Bunch of spoiled pups." 

"Diner: We'll buy." Laura intercepted him, passing him to Derek as she clapped at the various teenagers. "Food, come!" 

"Woof." Erica retorted drily, sighing as she ran her fingers distractedly through Isaac's hair. "Stiles, you still...?"

"You're lucky I love you, or I would have backed out by now." Derek shot him a look and Stiles shrugged, "I'm the only one man enough to go to dance classes with Erica. Also: the salsa is both fun and hilarious." Boyd was smirking at him, and Stiles pointed a threatening finger, "You laugh now, but when your wifey and I are dancing in the kitchen and she's making the most romantic memories ever, it'll be me there and not you." 

"Derek, feel like dancing?" 

Derek looked at his twin like she was some sort of test of God, and Stiles slowly cracked up, Lydia singing quietly so that Erica and Stiles could start dancing as they walked to the cars. Erica squealed as Stiles dipped her low and brought her back up, twirling her into Boyd's arms. "Derek doesn't need to dance, Laura; I'm set with partners. Aren't I, darling?" He asked Lydia dramatically. 

"Of course, love!" Lydia immediately replied, just as dramatically, falling into his arms and letting him dip her, lifting her leg behind his back as he brought her low.

"Put her upright before she knocks someone's eye out." Danny huffed, amused despite himself, "I'm starved, let's go." Stiles piled into his Jeep with Erica, Laura, and Danny in the back; Derek hurrying to the passenger immediately. Peter took the others, Lydia laughing quietly at something he murmured to her. "Stiles, I'm worried about you." Danny told him out of the blue, voice gentle. "Your powers took a massive jump if Lydia saw what she thought she saw last night." 

"My mate was being threatened, Danny. My pack. It was a sink-or-swim scenario." Stiles shrugged, "But thank you for being concerned." 

"Please continue to be concerned, give Derek some company on the panic-party wagon." Erica invited. 

"I also intend to worry." Laura volunteered. 

"How is it that the only person who has faith in my ability not to get my ass dead is the only one here that was panicking last night?" 

"I was _not_ the only one!" Erica protested. 

"But you were freaking the fuck out." Laura retorted. 

"Shit." Stiles grit, his grip on the wheel tightening. "Argents, babies, let's put our faces on." 

Erica huffed, leaning over Derek's shoulder and dropping the mirror down, angling herself to see and deftly applying crimson lipstick, her smile wicked under the dark fan of lashes. "Leave it to me." 

"No--!" Stiles was cut off by her door slamming closed, and he heaved a sigh, flailing in defeat and dropping his head to his steering wheel. He swore as Lydia ran up behind her in a flounce of long strawberry-blonde hair and a giggle. "They're going to get us killed." Stiles muttered, shaking his head and blinking like it'd make them reappear. He and Danny both unbuckled and slid out of the car, Danny reaching in to help Laura out before watching as Stiles strode into the diner after their two gorgeous girls, snarling under his breath about the things he put up with because he loved them. 

"Erica has a gift for flirting with the really stupid hunters, and Lydia welcomed half the force of them to their first night in Beacon Hills by fleecing them all for every dime they had, and then using her homemade grenade launcher to take out their cars and RVs. She put three in the hospital when they came after her, without breaking a sweat." Isaac told Laura, Peter, and Derek as they all congregated, eyes on the diner like it would blow up. Stiles was the first one expelled from the diner, tumbling down the stairs with blood coming out of his nose. Lydia kicked the guy who'd hit Stiles out next, into Stiles's waiting attack. Derek watched as his injured, human mate dislocated the man's kneecap, hitting the femur of the same leg hard enough to crack the bone. Stiles stood as the man fell, one hand twisted in his shirtfront, the other punching ribs out of place, turning and thrusting up to break the hunter's nose in one smooth move. He stood fully, shaking himself off, and cocked one brow at the diner doorway, where a second hunter came stumbling out only to have Lydia leap for his throat, wrapping her jean-clad legs around his neck and twisting, snapping bones as she went, flipping him into the dirt parking lot. 

"E?" Stiles asked Lydia, just a moment before two more hunters were smashed into either side of the doorway, Erica sarcastically apologizing before Lydia skipped back up the steps, twisting one's ear until it was a miracle it didn't simply come off, the other slammed once more into the door before Erica brought him out in the headlock. Lydia brought her captive to his knees in front of Stiles, who spit blood into the dirt next to the man's left leg. "You terrorize these people again, I'll tear out your spine and make you floss with it." Stiles intoned darkly, his eyes snapping flat black with the threat. "Get into your car and tell your buddies that this place is off limits." 

"'S a free fuckin' country--" The hunter cut off at the sound of a shotgun being cocked from the diner door, an aged waitress standing there with steady, scarily manicured hands on the weapon. 

"I'd suggest you listen to 'im: he's a good boy, smart...perceptive. You come back, and, as the kids say these days, I will fuck your shit up." She wheezed, the voice that of a smoker. 

Lydia looked up at the older woman, dropping her grip on his ear when the woman nodded. Stiles smiled sweetly around the blood, shooing them away like flies. "Now you take your trash and get the hell out of dodge." Erica commented drily, dropping the one she had, unconscious from lack of oxygen, onto the pile and gesturing for the man to pick up his partners and put them in the truck with him. 

"Oh, babe, you're gonna have a shiner." Lydia commented, her hand curling around Stiles's jaw. 

"Nah, he didn't break it." Stiles shrugged it off, trooping to Derek and smiling at him genuinely, still around the blood. Derek didn't know if he wanted to start learning swear words in other languages, or question every decision he'd ever made first. "C'mon, Fran makes the best pancakes..." Stiles told him, grabbing his hand only to blink at his own words. "Um...besides..." 

By the way Lydia and Isaac looked round, Derek could tell Stiles hadn't told them about his mother's pancakes, and it was the first time in a long time that the memory had surfaced. "Tell me you don't use your own blood as syrup." 

"Nah, baby bro," Laura breezed, nudging him as she passed, "you're the one that's sweet enough." 

Fran was waving everyone in with a crooked smile on her weathered face, looking up at Stiles with a raised brow as he tripped up the stairs. She stopped him, looking at his nose, "Go get Earl to give you some frozen peas, baby." She tsked, motherly. 

"Yes, ma'am. Sorry about that, Aunt Fran." 

She shrugged, "I figured it'd come when I moved down here to watch over you, butter cup. Go." She let him past and stopped Derek, looking up into his eyes with the same, amber gaze that Stiles had, "You're Derek Hale, my Stiles's mate. I'm his Aunt Fran." Derek could only sense she was a witch when she shook his hand, though he knew already. "That boy has been through Hell with a smile, dear. You take care of him or not even your sister will be able to find your body." She nodded to him as she started waving him in again, a look of a fantastic, old aunt taking back over her features, "Lydia, my sweet peach! You need more sleep, sweetheart. Is it our dumb boy keeping you up? I swear, you and Erica are both too skinny. That damn Argent girl can be anorexic, you my Irish rose, cannot." 

Stiles came up behind Derek from the back kitchen, a small pack of ice in his hand, pressed to his face. "So, yeah...that's my Aunt Fran. Jet's at the Manor right now, helping Aunt Sally with getting ready for the solstice." 

"And when she's not at the Manor?" 

"She's been teaching Horticulture at the high school so she can stick close. The hunters hadn't caught on that this place was run by Fran until now. She could have zapped them into the last millennia, but it's for the best if they don't use while they're here so they don't get noticed for anything beyond siding with the kid that's been saving the town." 

Stiles's free hand slid into Derek's, and he put it automatically into his pocket, pressing the cold between his hot palm and the heat that radiated through his shirt and jacket. Stiles shivered slightly, pulling closer and resting his head against Derek's shoulder as he watched the crazy mix of the pack arrange themselves according to conversation, two booths packed. 

Peter and Lydia were deep in conversation, her laughter tinkling over the din; Danny quietly reading in the corner as Isaac and Erica animatedly argued about video games, Boyd and Laura exchanging 'I can't believe I love this nerd' looks as they watched. Derek squeezed Stiles's hand gently, sliding into a third bench alone with him, smiling because he knew they wouldn't be alone for long. 

"This feels...better than it has for a long time, Stiles." Derek murmured. 

"Derek? Thank you...for coming back...for showing me your belly when we were kids. It's been hell without you, but it's too good to pass up having you back." 

They stole a kiss, smiling as Erica burst out that she was right and Isaac was wrong because she had boobs. "Children, behave! Don't make me come over there!" Stiles chortled out, failing to keep his laughter out of it. 

The other two booths went worryingly silent until Stiles couldn't stop himself from peeking out over the top anymore, at which point Erica blew a well-aimed straw wrapper from its straw, managing to lodge it in his nose. 

Laura burst out into laughter as Stiles sank back down, the wrapper removed once he was out of range of getting another. "My brother mates a single dad because of course he does."


	7. Hold on to My Halo

As a pack, they pulled into the lot of the old Hale house, Stiles trouping up the steps to the burned out ruin and opening the door with a flourish to allow Lydia and Erica entry. Derek, Peter, and Laura could all feel each other's tension, each other's pain, but Isaac took Laura's hand with a tentative smile, leading the way in. The teenagers' scent was thick here, adrenaline and an untameable dare pulsing through the air; all of them too wild even for the wolves. Lydia had draped herself over Erica, laying her legs over Boyd's lap as he came to sit next to his girlfriend, and leaning back against Isaac's when he sat on the other side. The furnishings were all hand-me-down and old, but comfortable for a bunch of teenagers. That Lydia abided a place like that was a bit of a shock, but she looked just as at home as Stiles did. 

Erica tapped the heel of her boot down twice like she was calling court to order, her grin flashing. "Stage is yours, boss." 

Stiles sat on the ground at Derek's feet, resting back against his leg, and a small smile flickered over his mouth as he looked over his people with half-lidded eyes. Peter hovered behind the overloaded couch, and Danny sat on the arm of Isaac's side; Laura on the ground in front of Erica, Lydia's fingers in her hair. "We few. We happy few." 

"We band of buggered." Lydia muttered sardonically, one brow twitching. "I've been thinking about it..." She began, looking down like she was drawing herself up, "if we really intend to take out the Argents, we have to take out Allison, not just Gerard. It's not going to do to cut the head off the snake. We need to take it apart." 

Stiles looked down, the movement a half-nod, "Originally, I'd intended to try to...show her, I suppose. What she was doing. I'd hoped to keep it so that Scott could be happy, could have her. Now..." Something steely grew in Stiles's features, "now we've moved past that. Speak now if you object." They all waited for a long beat before Stiles spoke up again, "I don't want to kill Allison or the other Argents: Gerard deserves to die, but the rest of them...I'd rather see them in straightjackets." 

Erica grinned slowly, "Batman, I have an idea." 

He grinned back, just as sharp, "I thought you might." 

It was up to Boyd and Derek to heave the leatherbound tome onto the Stilinski dining room table once they'd returned to the house, Lydia stepping up to flip through the heavy, age-worn pages for the spell Erica remembered her studying in said book. Stiles's eyes glinted with promise and danger, sending an dart of nervousness down Derek's spine. 

"A curse to bring about the subject's worst fears." 

"It'll bring ours, too." Lydia warned, "You just had to be a good witch and have consequences to your actions. Couldn't be evil." 

"Evil has consequences, like not having friends because I've killed them all." Stiles replied primly. 

"'Kay, no being evil: don't ever be evil." Erica chirped, eyes wide. 

Stiles grinned, reaching for Derek's hand. "When the fear comes, we stick together." 

Derek looked up at him, blinking slowly, "How real will it seem?" 

"Extremely. For a full night, dusk til dawn, you'll see whatever fear is your worst." Lydia muttered, drawing a black-red fingernail down the page. 

"And it might just be me." Stiles muttered. Derek tensed, his gaze snapping down to Stiles. "In which case, you can't be there." 

"I'm going to be there, Stiles." Derek insisted. 

Lydia shooed them away with an absent flick of her hand, "Go argue about it upstairs: You don't have enough juice to crank this out tonight." 

Derek took that as an order, taking Stiles's hand and leading him away from the pack before Isaac and Boyd roused to get them all out of the house. He felt a pang of gratitude towards them, pulling Stiles's bedroom door closed behind them and turning to him ardently. "My worst fear would be losing you: I won't let it happen--I'm not leaving you alone, in fear." 

"Derek, I don't know what the curse would make me see: I don't know what it'd make me do." Stiles gripped Derek's shirt in his hands, his eyes burning. "I won't hurt you." 

Derek grabbed his wrists, loosening his grip and bringing him in, one arm scooped around him to yank their mouths together. Derek hoisted Stiles's legs around his waist, stumbling to the bed. Stiles gripped Derek's hair as the two of them fell into bed. Derek knelt up, extending the claw on his thumb, running it over his forearm, the blood welling before his eyes, and closing just as quickly. "You _can't_ hurt me." 

Stiles's eyes flashed pure black, magic flipping them like a flapjack so that Stiles knelt over him, both of them suddenly naked, and Derek's body so heavy to him he couldn't move. "I can, Derek, that's something you don't seem to get. I'm powerful enough to make the weather change; I can hurt a werewolf." 

Derek fought through the magic with a single-minded tenacity, bucking Stiles over and pinning him down, "You're more than powerful enough to hurt a werewolf--but I'm your mate." Derek dropped down, his lips against Stiles's as he whispered, "You can't hurt me." 

Stiles groaned when Derek kissed him, long limbs wrapping around Derek and wrapping his fingers through his hair as he bit into the kiss. Derek moaned, letting Stiles flip them this time, his tongue swiping over Stiles's lower lip. Stiles drew his fingers down over Derek's chest, teasing his nipples with his thumbs and chuckling dirtily as Derek's hands gripped his hips. 

"Stiles..." 

"Keep saying my name like that." Stiles moaned, sitting up to look down at him with dark eyes. Stiles traced his eyes over Derek's body, his tongue sweeping over his lower lip, "I've been waiting for this since my first wet dream. You pinned me to my wall and gave me a handjob, biting my throat so hard I honestly thought I'd have a bruise when I woke up." Stiles's hips moved against him, and Derek's hand fisted in the sheets, his eyes blown with pupil. "I've been dreaming about you for years." 

"Tell me." Derek begged, voice rough. 

Stiles grinned, evil as hell, the mischief belied by the blush from ears to chest. "I've wanted to suck you off since I learned that was a thing." Stiles moved down between Derek's legs, "I used to dream that you licked me open, took me so hard I'd wake up and have to change my sheets just from the dream of it." Stiles's hand pumped slowly as he kissed down Derek's abs. "I wanted to fuck you against the wall of the shower, spend months in bed just fucking each other useless." Derek gasped shortly, his body tensing like a drawn bow as Stiles's tongue flicked against his tip. "I jerk myself off thinking about your knot and how it'll feel filling me up." Stiles slid his mouth down over Derek's cock, his words and actions mixing to make Derek bite down on a whimper. 

"Not like this." Derek managed, "Stiles..." 

Stiles pulled off with an utterly vulgar pop, "Please, Derek." 

Derek groaned, arching as Stiles sucked him down again, "Fuck." He bit off, reaching down and cupping a hand around the back of his head, not directing, just holding onto something. "I've been thinking about you since we left, Stiles. I hated imagining your life...I wanted to be your first kiss and the one you fell apart for, and I wanted to goddamn kill anyone who got to be there instead." Stiles pulled off, pouncing on Derek's mouth and licking his way in. 

"You were my first kiss, Derek." Stiles reminded him sweetly, kissing him softer, "You kissed me after I tried out for lacrosse the first time, when I asked you to kiss me to see why Lydia and Jackson seemed to enjoy it so much." The grin growing over Derek's face told Stiles he remembered, and Stiles hid into his throat, kissing along his neck, down his shoulder. 

Derek bent his head down, one hand cupping Stiles's cheek, and he paused, just inches away from their mouths touching, just as it had been their first kiss, in the lacrosse field with Stiles swallowed by an oversized jersey. Stiles's breath stuttered, his eyes closing and his hand curling on Derek's shoulder. It was that moment that Derek had been waiting for, kissing him like he was sending a prayer. 

"I can't believe Mr. Cool Teenager still hung out with me, let alone agreed to that." Stiles breathed, pulling himself into Derek's arms more securely. Derek put his mouth against the blush raging in Stiles's cheeks, grinning at the memories. 

"No one could tease me worse than my family, and I'd gotten used to it by then." Derek explained. Stiles's fingers scrubbed through the rough stubble on his jaw, leaning in for another kiss. 

Stiles began strategically carpet-bombing kisses over Derek's skin, playfully smacking Derek's hand away when he reached to bring Stiles up. Derek laughed huskily, shaking his head as Stiles kissed on. "You're unfairly pretty. I didn't imagine quite how pretty you'd be. Changes my plans a bit." 

"Oh?" Derek questioned faintly, trying and failing not to focus all his attention on Stiles squirming above him, on his mouth sucking and licking and biting his skin. 

"All this is mine. I want to give it its proper due." Stiles muttered, biting down hard enough on Derek's pectoral to make the wolf hiss and arch beneath him. Derek swallowed, panting with how turned on his was, moaning pitifully as Stiles licked the ring of teethmarks dirtily. Derek's hips twitched and Stiles pulled away from his chest with a Cheshire grin, reaching for a tube in his headboard. Derek took it from him, slicking up his fingers before Stiles had a chance to slick his own, and moving to draw a slow circle around the pucker of Stiles's hole that had Stiles shuddering. "Full moon's next week. We can complete the bond." Derek didn't reply; didn't need to. Stiles moaned long and desperate, trying to shove himself down on Derek's fingers, "I want you to knot me." Stiles managed--and, finally, his voice was as wrecked as he made Derek feel. 

Derek raised an eyebrow, his free hand gripping Stiles's thigh as he tried to rock down on the finger spreading him open. "You're going to make me crazy." Derek whispered. 

Stiles grinned, his hand curving around the back of Derek's neck, "Good." 

The air between them was hot, burning blood through Derek's veins and leaving him stark in the face of promise in Stiles's eyes. His heart was racing with something very close to fear, and he didn't know if it was more to do with the memories or if it had to do with the simple fear of losing. Stiles sighed, eyes half-mast looking down on him, and Derek felt like he had to let it take him under if he wanted to tear it apart. With a sigh, Stiles kissed Derek's eyelids, taking his hand away carefully and adjusting to guide Derek into the slick heat of him. Derek moaned like it was punched out of him, closing his eyes and focusing on how much he loved him, how much he'd wanted this, for years. 

Stiles moaned high in his throat, head tipping back as he dragged himself up, relishing the slow burn of friction, and shoved himself back down. Derek licked his lips, eyes blown, as he gripped Stiles's hips and moved in counterpoint. Stiles's fingers clung to his skin, his noises bit off and weak. Derek wanted to rewrite his entire life so that there was nothing but this building tension of aching pleasure and love between them. Stiles completed him in a way he never had before, dark eyes burning down on him as he got sloppier with his movements, sweat beading down his back. Biting his lip, Derek reached up and lowered Stiles down against his chest, flipping them over slowly and thrusting in deep, his hand sliding higher on his thigh, bending Stiles almost in half. Stiles cried out, his body clenching around Derek hard. Derek sucked down his noises, his movements turning harsh and desperate with Stiles spread like a feast beneath him. Stiles arched, eyelids fluttering as Derek shifted to find his prostate and kept the angle perfectly. 

Stiles arched and came untouched with a cry, his body closing around Derek like it'd drag him in and keep him there if it had any say in the matter. Derek slotted their mouths in a heady kiss, still hard and aching to work into him, harder and deeper, until there was nothing left but Stiles's ambrosial sounds. 

Moaning, Stiles changed the kiss, messy and slick but soft. Stiles whimpered as Derek pulled out, letting his head drop to the side to allow Derek access to his neck, which Derek littered kisses over as Stiles curled on his side and brought Derek down against his back. Stiles sighed as he slid Derek back in, one long-fingered hand reaching up to tangle in Derek's hair as he worked his body down on Derek's still-hard cock. Trapping Stiles in with his arm, Derek moved mindbogglingly slowly, pleasure building over him like waves in the tide, until he was writhing against Derek's chest, his cock throbbing and oversensitive as it slowly filled again. 

Stiles dug his blunt nails into Derek's forearm, his lip almost bleeding under the pressure of his teeth. 

Derek smoothed a hand over his taut stomach, hushing him gently as Stiles spasmed and built back up into riding the edge of another orgasm. Stiles whined, making a concerted effort to remove his nails from Derek's skin, his hand a brand banding around his wrist instead. Derek twisted his arm, sliding his hand down and wrapping their fingers together against the pillow, tipping over the edge of his orgasm as Stiles's fingers folded around his. Stiles shouted, moaning long as Derek pulsed into him, his cock growing with the knot, and Derek felt Stiles's own body flinching as he pushed over the edge, his cock twitching, only a small dribble able escaping the tip from the explosive fallout of his first orgasm depleting him. 

"S--Stiles?" 

"'M okay, Derek," Stiles breathed, face smushed against the bed. His body moved, the knot shifting inside him, and they groaned in unison, "actually, fuck 'okay': I'm fucking fabulous."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Porn dedicated, as always, to Ashton.


	8. Wild

Ten minutes later, Derek could hear the police cruiser pulling up and the sheriff talking with another voice he didn't recognize. 

"Stiles." He hissed. 

"Mmm?" Stiles was dozing, lax and limp in his arms, and Derek really didn't want to wake him, but he had to. 

"Your dad is coming home." 

Stiles's eyes flew open, "Shit!" He squeaked, body jerking, and they both whined as Derek's knot tugged. "How long is this supposed to last?" 

"I don't know, I haven't done this before." Derek grunted. 

He gave up on letting Stiles have his freak-out, reaching his arms around Stiles's body--arms and all--and rolled so that he was sprawled half-on top of him, pinning Stiles down between his body and the bed. Stiles arched into him like a puppy seeking warmth, but snapped back out of it a moment later, "Call Lydia. My phone is in my pants: Call Lydia." 

Derek managed to reach, wincing as he heard the car pull into the drive. 

Stiles wriggled until he could get his hand around the phone, "Lyds, it's me. Um...I'm a little bit stuck in a position my dad would rather not see me in--yeah, he's knotted. Yes, dad's home now...C'mon! Fine, you don't owe me for that, but you know your life would not be as fun without me. Lydia, baby, please? YES! You are a goddess and a warrior queen. I am in awe of you!" Stiles hung up, snickering evilly as he slid more securely into Derek's warm arms. 

Downstairs, Derek could hear the phone ringing, and the sheriff picking up. 

"Hello, Lydia. Yes, I'm home early. Stiles is upstairs...well, it's too quiet for them to be trying to kill each other." The sheriff laughed at something Lydia said, and Derek stiffened, listening harder, "Beat a hasty retreat for plausible deniablity, huh? I do like the way you think. Well, I'll just have to go have some curly fries and a milkshake with Scott and take it as reparations for not mortifying my dear son out of ever having sex again." The sheriff's voice picked up a little louder, and Derek knew that the sheriff was well aware that he was listening. Derek bit down on a hiss, careful not to alert Stiles to anything being wrong. "Don't forget you have lacrosse tonight, son!" Stiles groaned as his dad yelled up the reminder, his head falling against Derek's arm like it would be the same as dropping it against a desk. 

"He's gone." Derek murmured after a moment, listening as the car pulled away. 

"He knew, didn't he?" 

"Yeah." Derek ground, ducking his face down into the curve of Stiles's neck, breathing deep and steady. 

"That tickles--stop scenting me. I've got your dick still up my ass, I think the limp alone will ward people away." 

Derek moaned softly, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin and holding Stiles through a hard shudder. "I wasn't scenting you. You already smell like me more than anyone else." 

Stiles hummed as Derek stroked his arm up, wrapping their fingers together. Derek leaned down to kiss Stiles's shoulder, stroking over his side. 

"I think the knot's going down." Derek murmured, gentling over Stiles's stretched hole as he pulled out. Stiles whimpered, muffling it against the pillow as Derek whined in response to Stiles's distress. "It's okay." He whispered, dropping kisses along the long column of Stiles's neck. Stiles twisted, curling up against Derek with an arm around the back of his neck. Stiles reached up and kissed him, loose and soft. "How do you feel?" 

"Fantastic." Stiles sighed, moaning softly as Derek circled his finger in Stiles, checking to make sure he hadn't hurt Stiles at all. "You didn't..." Stiles sighed, pushing back against Derek's finger. He sat up, sliding upright and kissing Derek. "This was perfect." 

Stiles did have a small limp as he walked to the bathroom, humming to himself so badly off-key Derek didn't know if it was an actual song at all. 

Grinning to himself, Derek relaxed back against the bed, closing his eyes. Stiles tumbled back into bed, grinning as Derek's eyes snapped open and his limbs snatched Stiles against his chest. Stiles wrapped a hot washcloth-covered hand around Derek's cock, startling him bad enough he almost tossed Stiles off. Laughing, Stiles flattened himself against Derek, cleaning him efficiently. Derek shuddered as the rough cloth rubbed his skin clean. Stiles tossed the washcloth away, cuddling in. Derek threaded his hand through Stiles's hair, pressing kisses into his forehead. Stiles giggled, his fingers curling on Derek's chest. They had a full five minutes of being happy before the phone rang shrilly from where Stiles had dropped it on the bed. 

They both groaned loudly, Stiles reaching for the phone. "Aunt Frankie?" Derek listened close as the older woman started talking. 

_"Your father's down here with an arrow through his shoulder, and the little chicklet with the bow is threatening to bring the whole diner down."_

Stiles shoved himself into pants, moving without his legs even under him, almost wiping out as he continued his forward momentum. Derek grabbed up his own pants and Stiles's hoodie as he ran to keep up. 

Leaping for the Jeep as Stiles roared it to life, Derek slid in as the Jeep rocked down the drive, tyres screeching. Stiles swore fluently, Derek hyper-aware of every potential accident waiting to happen. "Plan?" 

"The bag behind your seat." Stiles threw out, gunning it for the diner, back end almost fishtailing. Stiles revved it, spinning into a side-hit, tossing the hunter standing perimeter. He ran over the body twice more, reaching back to grab the bag, tearing out a bow and arrow that glowed in his hand. "That bitch isn't the only one that knows how to shoot a bow."

Stiles stepped out of the van, taking immediate aim and firing a shot across the street into an advancing pack of hunters. The arrow was true, actually more true than Derek thought an arrow ever could be: it cut down the full brace of hunters, from one body impossibly to the next. "Derek, get to cover!" Stiles yelled, whipping around and firing again, the arrow aimed for the black SUV. There was a hissing sound, and then a boom as the SUV blew, sending a ball of flame throwing the archer too far away to shoot back; the tin ball of a diner seemingly flame-retardant until the scent of Stiles's magic hit Derek in the face, the barrier around the diner erected by the magic. 

"Stiles, NO!" Derek tried to launch for him before he took off for the diner, flames still hounding it. As it had that horrible night too many years before, the fire parted its dance for him; Stiles firing one more arrow as he disappeared in the smoke. Derek turned to the young, female hunter Stiles had just pinned to the ground with a shot: snarling fearsomely as the shift fought its way out. The girl smelled like the one that had burned his family down. Her brown eyes were wide, scared, as he bore down on her viciously. 

There was an unholy roar from behind him: the fire spewing forth another wolf, a young beta trying for his head. 

"Scott; I will tear your head off, spinal chord and all." Lydia's voice nailed through the beta, her arm rigged with a contraption that looked like a cross between a crossbow and a machine gun, reeking of poison to Derek's senses. Erica hooked a hand around Derek's shoulder, her hazel eyes burning. 

"Come hunting with me, wolf boy. We have geriatric hunters to catch." Over Erica's shoulder, Peter nodded that he would come along as if that should have been taken as read; Erica's challenge in the arch of her eyebrow and the deadly twinkle in her eye. 

Derek did as she asked, falling into step as Lydia shifted forth, still threatening the pup of a wolf and watching over the Argent Stiles had pinned by her pant leg to the ground. "Gerard Argent isn't going to be an easy snag and bag." 

"If you hurt him--" 

"Oh, Allison, sweetheart; we won't hurt him: we'll kill him. And while I can't promise that'll be painless, I can sure as shit promise that if you come near me or Stiles any of us again that I will hunt and kill you myself, forget the war games I've indulged you in." Lydia threatened, her green eyes flashing as she towered over the fallen huntress. "This town is ours; you can stay if you uphold the Code. But one slip, and I'll shred you down on a molecular level." 

"Is Stiles okay?" Derek asked as they peeled away from the chaos. 

"He'll be fine. That boy has a talent for fire." Erica muttered, pulling him along, "Baby boy! Take care of papa bear, I've got lover boy!" She bellowed towards the inferno. 

Lydia and Peter flanked them both, looking darkly gleeful. "Sport?"

"Play." Peter answered, letting the shift start to take over; fangs and claws running out as his eyes shifted blue. "Laura, stick with Stiles! Isaac, watch the little girl. Make sure she doesn't try anything stupid." 

"Scott, run with her if she runs for it. Either break Stiles's heart or don't, but don't keep fucking with him like this." Lydia ordered, her voice a cold fury. They assembled into Stiles's Jeep, a catlike smile on Lydia's lips, "Say it, E, you know you want to." 

Erica grinned wickedly, "Time to nut up or shut up, boys, let's rock 'n' roll!"


	9. Phoenix Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As requested, another chapter. 
> 
> I think, lovelies, that I've got an epilogue left in me before I have to close this world for me for good. A lot of what's gone on in canon has turned me off of the whole thing, and I find myself feeling fear that this little world is just as bad as Jeff Davis's, only with the added bonus of gay werewolf. (Also, I refuse to wade any further into the canon to get to things like the nogitsune and the kitsunes, because I've learned the lore, and you couldn't pay me to traipse into what Jeff has made of it.)

"Scott, I'm sorry, but Allison isn't the kind of girl you think she is! She's been trying to kill us for years now, Scott, and being with you has made you a shield for her against Stiles finally striking! I can't say she's using you, but damn, it looks that way more than anything else. Please, Scott. Please, come back. Please come home to us." Isaac pleaded. "I used to love you, Scott. So much so that I was pulled between you and Stiles in being a shield for her. In your heart, Scott, does it feel right? Really? Because it doesn't seem like it does." 

Scott was still half-shifted, shaking as he stared at Isaac standing between him and Allison. Everything in Isaac was telling him not to turn his back to an Argent--and especially not that Argent, but he couldn't stop himself from trying to save Scott. "Get out of my way, you--" 

Scott was knocked off his feet, sprawling against the concrete, and Laura and Stiles were both towering over him. "Now I _know_ that wasn't gonna be anything derogatory." Laura drawled, "'Cause my baby brother and your best friend are a hot-ticket item." 

"I don't fucking care! Get out of my way!" Scott snarled, rolling to his feet. Stiles's hand was on Laura's arm before she could make another move. 

"You and I are brothers, Scott, and we always have been. You come back, and I'll welcome you home, but the Argent family has taken enough from me. Including you. Take Allison and go, but the Argent family won't survive coming back here. Your mom knows, Scott. My dad told her after she was nearly attacked and you weren't there to save her." At the mention of his mother, Scott's features grew territorial, angry, and Isaac reached out and slapped him across the face, staring at him. 

"I was your best friend for a while there, Scott; and Stiles is like your brother. Listen up and shut up, because I'm saying this once then reserving the right to scream because I just broke my hand hitting you in your uneven jaw: You have a whole home here, and if you listen to yourself, you'll know she isn't it. She couldn't be it. Not for you." 

The whisper of the last, like a prayer, heralded, as Isaac had said it might, a twist of Isaac's angelic features, his hand flung in front of him like if he could just unattach it, it'd be so much better. Laura strode forward, taking his hand between hers and letting the wolf drain her mate's pain away. He hissed in thanks, looking glumly at Stiles. "Seriously, dude, I need me a healing factor." 

Scott took a tortured step forward, "It's not a--" 

"A gift? Scott, bro, when are you going to realize that it is? That you got mugged for your wallet, but grabbed a winning lottery ticket out of the perp's back pocket? It was shitty that you got bitten without your choice, man; but think about it...would you have been able to pull through? Would any of us?" 

"Stiles, I don't want to hear some shitty pep talk--" 

"Fuck off, my pep talks kick ass." 

"--Since you're going to leave, can I adopt your mom?" Isaac asked venomously. 

"No way, dibs." Stiles laughed darkly, his grin feral. 

Scott's eyes were wide, looking between them, "You can't!" 

"They can't what, Scott? Stand by you while you stand by the woman tearing this town apart?" Aunt Frankie asked, hands going to her hips, "Your mother came to Jet and I crying that you'd lied to her for so long." 

Scott was crying, silent tears working up to full sobs as he looked around at his friends. "I--" 

"She loves you, son. But you didn't trust her." The Sheriff coughed, wheezing as Stiles and Frankie healed him. "She'll forgive you for that, and she'll forgive you for leaving--but she won't forgive you if there are more deaths because you've helped Miss Argent." 

Allison looked accusingly at Scott, "You'd abandon me? After everything that happened? After they killed Kate and my parents?" 

"You never knew Kate, and your mom was bitten because she was trying to kill Scott; we had nothing to do with your dad, Allison. He was a good man, a good hunter--maybe the only one. I'd talk to your grandfather about that." Stiles told her with cold authority. 

She clammed up, her features crumpling and mistrust painting her features, "How dare you?" 

Stiles tipped his chin up, and in one fluid motion he was crouching over her, looking like a dark imp with its prey at its feet. "I dare because your family killed mine first; I dare because your precious Aunt Kate burned a home of innocents alive." Stiles spat at her, his eyes blazing. 

Allison burned back, defiant. "I will--" 

"You will leave. Or you will die." Stiles told her, his long hands confident as they produced a blade, angling it under her chin. "Your choice." 

~

"What the hell...?" Lydia breathed, her red lips fallen open and her eyes gone wide. 

"Duck!" Peter screamed to the others as he tackled her out of the way. The hissing mess of a monster swiped for her, and Lydia couldn't help the surprised shriek that came out of her mouth as venom was splattered across the floor where she'd been standing. "It's a paralytic! Don't let it touch you." 

"Tell me something I don't know!" Erica shouted back, trying to take a shot at Gerard Argent before he escaped behind the two lizard-like diversions. 

"Like maybe how there's two of 'em?!" Lydia agreed, running to the back of the Jeep and opening the hatch. "E, divert!" 

"Gotcha, Lyds!" 

"Wait, this is normal?" Peter and Derek asked in near-unison. 

"Oh, you two are just precious." Lydia cooed, her hands flying over a miniature chemistry set she'd hidden in the back of the Jeep. "Now, excuse me," she stepped around the two werewolves, hefting a contraption onto her arm and aiming, "E, back it up!" 

Erica circled back towards the gathering, and Lydia fired as soon as she was out of range--but not towards the monsters; towards the warehouse ceiling, and the fire sprinklers put in there. "Let's see how you bitches like diluted juice." Erica snarked, leveling a shot past Gerard this time, to the door he was trying to escape from, wrenching it with impact in such a way that Gerard couldn't force it open. 

The two monsters were hissing wildly at the water falling from above, and Lydia turned back to the trunk, picking up a glass beaker and throwing it as hard as she could past the lizards. The building shook with the explosion; the warehouse full of fuel tanks and Gerard Argent caught in the blaze as Erica stepped forwards one last time, taking her shot at the finally-cornered hunter, the bullet levelly hitting him in between the eyes. 

"What do we do about things one and two?" Erica asked, her hair a curtain between her face and the flames in such a way that for a moment, Derek was wildly worried it'd caught flame. 

There was a roar from behind them, and someone that _was_ on fire leapt forward, closing arms around Erica and trying to drag her back. 

"NO!" Lydia bellowed, unfurling a silver chain that simply sang with Stiles's magic and whipping it into the flames, catching Erica's hand and yanking her away from the nearly-unrecognizable hunter. "Peter!" She shouted, skidding to her knees beside her best friend, "Derek, come help me!" 

Peter launched himself towards the flames, shifting in mid-air with all the fury of the father and husband that had been lost to the flames this bastard had caused. "How is he--" Erica choked, badly burned and bleeding sluggishly. 

"Don't." Lydia ordered simply. "Derek...I need you to bite her." She told him, pinning him with a steely green gaze. "She won't make it to the hospital." 

Derek looked at her squarely, then down to Erica. "It's your choice." 

"Not m-much of one..." Erica wheezed, "Do it." She nodded shakily, her whole body writhing for the pain and the fear. 

Derek took her hand in his, looking into her eyes and nodding slowly before he lowered his mouth to her wrist and carefully sank his teeth into the fire-cracked flesh. 

He knew it was a risk to do this; if Erica wasn't meant to be a wolf, this would do nothing to help her. And if she was...it was going to be a hard time keeping her alive until the change gave her the ability to heal. Gerard had cracked her ribs, and had caught her on fire. Her breathing was wet from both blood and the water that was still pouring down on them, and her eyes were desperate as she looked for someone to hold onto. Boyd had gone to wrangle the two lizards, and now he was running for them, his face stark with heartbreak. 

"Hey..." She breathed as he came into view, and Derek moved immediately, letting Boyd get close enough to offer her the comfort she needed, "love you." 

"No." Boyd told her simply, "You're gonna pick up from this..." 

Erica licked her lips and smeared blood over them, "You keep me here, babe. You're the strongest man I know." 

"I will not let you go." Boyd promised. 

"Better not." She curled a smile, but it was stained with death. 

Lydia's hand fell to Derek's shoulder, and it was the closest he could get to Stiles in that moment, but it wasn't enough. From the inferno, Peter roared, hefting what Derek knew was Gerard's severed head in victory. Lydia walked shakily forward, and when Peter finally fell to his knees, burned too badly to keep standing, she fell with him, crying for them both already. 

The door to the warehouse on the other side of the flames burst open and off its hinges, flying onto the flames and actually putting some of them out. 

Stiles's hands were glowing, his eyes flat black as he reached into the flames and molded them into the image of a dragon, dispersing them and turning off the sprinklers with that magic alone. 

The walls seemed to bend around him as he walked in slow and steady paces to the two injured, reaching one hand to Peter and healing him with nothing more than a touch. 

"Stiles..." Derek breathed, but there was nothing but the black in his eyes, no recognition or emotion. 

Stiles stood over Erica finally, and she looked more afraid than she had this whole time, shaking her head with a desperation that Derek knew was for Stiles, not for herself. 

"Lydia?" There was a shaking call from the other side of the warehouse, where Boyd had trapped the lizards in a makeshift cage. From between the pieces, a blond boy was looking out, his beautiful features stark with fear. 

"Jackson?" She called back, choking on the word. 

Derek could only watch Stiles, though; as he bent to Erica and reached out a hand, but she refused to take it. 

"No, babe. Not like this. You've spent too much already. It's not happening." She whispered the words in a disjointed mantra, and Boyd was so obviously torn between throwing her into Stiles's healing hands and obeying her wishes that he was shaking. 

"Stiles." Derek tried again, "Please..." 

Stiles reached down when Erica wouldn't take his hand, until his fingertips were a hair's-breadth away from her ruined skin. A bolt like lightning connected them and then shot through Stiles, sending him flying as she let out a wolf's roar, her eyes shifting to the honey-gold of a beta and her skin healing. 

"Stiles!" Erica, Lydia, Derek, and Boyd shouted at once, as his lanky body fell to the floor hard. 

Lydia squeezed Peter's shoulder, running for Stiles with Derek on her heels. She fell to her knees, turning Stiles as carefully as she could, lifting his head onto her shoulder, "Stiles, sweetheart..." Lydia breathed, "He's not breathing!" 

"He doesn't have a heartbeat." Derek told her hollowly, reaching for Stiles's broken arm. "He's gone..." Derek bent over his chest and broke, lifting Stiles into his arms. He willed himself to be able to heal his broken mate; to have the powers that Stiles needed in a mate. "Oh, god...please..." 

Lydia's hand gripped his shoulder, and he rumbled against the comfort, not wanting it at all. "Derek..." she whimpered, leaning forward until her head was tucked against the other side of his neck, "oh, I'm sorry." She sobbed. 

Derek could hear the others, Erica crying so hard that she collapsed before she could reach them, Boyd falling with her, cradling her in his arms. 

Peter stood up shakily, looking over as Laura, the Sheriff, and Aunt Frankie came running through the door. Derek could hear Aunt Frankie take a single, shaking breath. 

"You clear those tears now, boy." She ordered, voice whip-harsh. "I need you strong now--he needs you strong right now. You can break when we're sure he's gone, sweetheart." 

"What?" Lydia demanded, surfacing out of his neck, "What do you mean?" 

"I mean we have to work fast and hard, and I need you, too." Frankie knelt beside Derek, laying her hands over Stiles, "Lydia, you've got magic: Derek has the connection, Stiles can be brought back by you two. But you need to help me now, because if he goes too far, he won't be able to be brought back the same. He's not quite dead." 

"Just mostly dead." Erica quipped, sniffling, shoving Derek out from under him so that she could slide where he was, Lydia and Frankie on one side of him, and Derek on the other. 

"Take my hands, there isn't going to be a chocolate coating that'll make this any easier. I'm old, Derek; I'm not just relying on you for your connection to him--" 

"You need my strength." Derek reasoned quietly, taking her hand almost before it was offered to him, his jaw set. 

Frankie had a fondness in her eyes, Lydia taking her other hand and Derek's, the three of them sitting around Stiles as Frankie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. 

With that one breath, Derek felt like he was slipping molecule by molecule down a rabbit hole that was like an impossible, sucking vortex. Fire erupted in every capillary, a slow, creeping blaze that made him choke for the pain. Lydia was shaking, hissing under her breath as she did, and Frankie was perfectly still, a pale grey that made Derek's heart twist horribly. 

But under their clasped hands, something else entirely was happening, a flash and burn like a phoenix in birth, flashing and crackling with both power and light, right over Stiles. 

His still, cold features twitched, and in the next moment the magic expanded and exploded, nearly sent him skidding across the rough floor. Lydia fell to her side, her hair in a dark arc across the floor around her head, pale and still. Peter ran to her, and with a twist and shriek of metal, the blond boy that had just been a lizard was running for her as well. Derek could barely think about that, though, with the sound like a hummingbird's wing thrumming in the chest beneath their hands. "Stiles?" He breathed, his whole body shaking like a leaf as he lifted his lover into his arms, "Stiles..." 

Frankie slumped back into the Sheriff's arms, and he lifted her up. "Aunt Frankie?" 

"I'm fine, dear..." She groaned, "just weak." 

Stiles's father reached out his shaking hand and laid it on Stiles's hair, his eyes wet and his throat choking for air. Stiles took in a shaking breath and as he let it out, he opened his eyes. He shifted in Derek's arms, and reached for his dad, pulling him into a hug and wrapping the other arm around Frankie. The three family members wept together, and as they did, Lydia was pulled up into Peter's arms, her green eyes huge with tears as Erica wrapped her in her own arms, too. Lydia struggled to surface from the cloud of blonde hair, her eyes on Stiles searchingly, only calming when he emerged and turned to look back at Derek and her. Stiles crawled away from Derek, to Lydia first, pulling her and Erica in, and hugging Peter and Laura, too, before finally letting himself fall into Derek's arms, kissing his neck and wrapping tight around him. 

"Peter killed Gerard." Lydia reported. 

"After we set him on fire." 

"And after he set me on fire." Erica piped up. Stiles didn't move or react, holding onto Derek like a lifeline in the worst storm there could ever be. 

"We should get you home, all of you. Frankie...?"

"I can walk to the cruiser, dear: I'm not that feeble." She assured him, though her voice was reedy, and she accepted his hand up, Peter hurrying to support her from the other side. 

Erica was crying into Boyd's chest, relieved and stressed and scared. Stiles and Derek were the last to move, Stiles unwilling to be out of reach from Derek. "How did Gerard survive a bullet in his brain?" 

"I'm not sure I want to know." Stiles answered Lydia, turning his head to look at her with tired, sad eyes. "Right now, all I want is to go home and sleep." He looked at Frankie, "I think we both need it." 

The Sheriff didn't say a thing about Stiles and Derek both going upstairs, he simply stopped Stiles before the stairs, pulling him into a long hug, "I love you, kid." He muttered roughly, and then looked up at Derek, shaking his hand. "Thank you for what you did for Frankie and Stiles." 

Derek just shook his head, wondering idly if he looked half as awful as he felt if the Sheriff was thanking him so earnestly. Derek half-carried Stiles towards his bedroom, laying him on the bed and tugging off his shoes, then his pants; slipping his hoodie over his head and laying him back on the pillows, the long lines of pale skin reassuringly warm. Stiles smiled at him, trying for flirty around the exhaustion. "You'd be unconscious before we even managed to get going." Derek told him. 

Stiles groaned, "You're no fun." Derek leaned over, kissing him gently, his hand brushing up and down his side, feeling Stiles shiver at the slow drag of heat over his cooling skin. 

Derek stood up, kicking off his own shoes and stripping, ignoring the surge of lust that coloured the air from the boy on the bed. "No." He ordered sternly, sliding into the bed and pulling Stiles against him, the both of them nude, having gone out too quickly for underwear. "Sleep for now, Stiles. Please sleep." 

Stiles pressed sleepy, soft kisses to Derek's skin, brushing his lips back and forth over his stubble and wrapping his long limbs around Derek's body with a happy moan. He tucked himself into Derek's neck, drinking in his scent as he drifted, his lashes fluttering against Derek's pulse, Stiles's own pulse the only thing Derek could focus on until it filled his whole world. "I love you, I love you, I love you." Stiles whispered. 

"I love you, too. And I could never let you go." 

"Good."


	10. Epilogue: I'm Not Alone

Derek was too cold when he woke up the next morning, and fear shot through him that Stiles had managed to die in his arms in the night. 

But that wasn't it. Stiles sat on his bedroom floor with Lydia and Erica under each arm, talking to his Aunt Frankie in the roller desk chair across the room. 

"...so my powers are gone?" 

"That was the price." Frankie nodded, "You used too much, sweetheart. Something had to be taken for you to be gained. The most powerful witch to ever be conceived, in any line let alone the Owens line, couldn't come back without something else being taken away." 

"Will I ever get my powers back?" 

Frankie glanced up at Derek over Stiles's head, and she smiled gently, "I've no idea, sweetheart. But surely your powers--" 

"You don't understand: I don't know how to protect these guys without them, Aunt Frankie. I'm a liability." 

"You have two Alphas, two Betas, and you've run the Argents out of town, Stiles, and beat an Alpha pack." Derek told him gently, sitting up and reaching down to curl a hand around the back of Stiles's neck. 

"And now the poachers could be sitting on your lap and not know that you once had powers, baby." Frankie agreed. "Your Aunt Sally once denied her powers. She shoved them away for so long that when she finally used them again--to bring back a dead man, I'll have you know--her powers went even more awry than they should have. There are some spells that don't bear writing down. What Derek, Lydia, and I did to bring you back is one of them: too dangerous to even try without someone to hold onto. You're lucky your young man is so strong, or Lydia and I might've ended up dead ourselves." 

Stiles flinched, and craned his neck back to look at Derek, his eyes a deep chocolate brown with his sadness. 

"Jet and Sally are on their way, though, love--but I have a feeling the only thing to do to see if your powers'll come back is...wait." 

Stiles nodded slowly, "Thank you, Aunt Frankie." 

"Your mom would be proud, baby."

Lydia and Erica roused as the older woman got up, and they left with her, accepting a kiss to both their foreheads before they drifted off. 

Stiles turned to Derek in the bed, climbing back in in his hoodie and sweatpants. Derek groaned, wrapping his arms around Stiles once more and burying his head against Stiles's chest. Stiles threaded his long fingers through Derek's black hair, quiet and sad in his introspection. "I had to bring you back," Derek whispered, "don't expect me to apologize for it." 

Stiles's breath caught, and he pressed a kiss to Derek's hair, "No, I wouldn't apologize for dragging you back, either. I just can't help feeling like I'm a liability." 

Derek tightened his arms around Stiles's chest, "You're still not a normal boy, Stiles. You garner incredible loyalty and trust...You're more than human." 

"Stiles!" The yell from downstairs startled them both, and Stiles groaned, pressing another kiss to Derek's head before rolling off the bed again and charging down the stairs. 

Derek slid into his jeans, ready for an attack more than anything else, but what he found downstairs was not so much an attack as a reunion. Stiles and Scott were hugging like it'd kill them both to let go, and Scott's mom was leaning beside Stiles's father, watching the exchange with a happy glow of pride. 

"I couldn't leave you like my dad left. It was wrong, and I knew it was. It was all wrong, Stiles, I'm so sorry." 

"It's okay, big guy." Stiles comforted. "I knew you'd get there eventually." 

"Lydia?" Derek asked, sinking into a seat a couple of stairs up from her own. 

She turned, "Stiles and Scott were like brothers. Now...they get to be again." She told him, smiling. 

"But under no circumstances do you date without a full background check." Erica piped up. "I got bitten, dude, and it was less a choice than it was a preventative measure against me dying, and I don't feel like bangin' the homicidal chick." 

"You have Boyd: unfair advantage." Stiles quipped, grinning. 

"True."

Joy was coming off of Stiles in waves, and Derek watched him, remembering the little boy he'd been, then the gawky teenager. Now, with this incredible young man standing in the front hall surrounded by family, Derek knew that anything that came next wouldn't matter: Stiles didn't need his powers, and Derek didn't need to be a wolf to battle it back; because the family Stiles had grown was stronger than any family that could ever be born of each other. 

And that was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by something random I saw on Tumblr, and, as usual, it took on a life of its own. 
> 
> Tags will change; rating might change; never doubt my ability to throw in some gratuitous orgasms once the boys get big, darlings.


End file.
